Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers
by Felinity
Summary: Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts is not as simple as he would have liked. Instead of just worrying about his O.W.L.s (and maybe girls) as normal teenagers do, war has begun in the magical community, and a strange, disembodied being haunts Harry's steps...
1. Chapter One: The Dream

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you might recognise from the Harry Potter books. They all belong to JK Rowling!!!  
  
A/N: This takes place in Harry's fifth year and takes up right after GoF! Enjoy! As of 21st June, 2003 this story is considered AU. ^_^  
  
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Chapter 1  
  
The Dream  
  
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Voldemort sat on his throne overlooking the rows of kneeling Deatheaters in front of him. His snake-like nostrils flared, catching the scent of uncertainty and fear. He smirked in a self-satisfied way. None of them knew why they were here... not even that fool Malfoy, who never seemed to leave his side these days, or Wormtail. Voldemort sneered at the thought of the rat that was currently cowering at his feet. Completely useless, a weak wizard, yet he was the one who had helped him come back to life..... and he was good as a spy, mainly because nobody (except for his former friends) knew that he was an illegal Animagus.  
  
Voldemort shifted in his seat as the smell of fear intensified. Most of the Deatheaters were shaking by now, terrified of what was to come..... all but one. And that was the one because of whom they were all here. Voldemort smiled again, rather nastily. He supposed he had kept them waiting for long enough now.  
  
He stood up and slowly began to walk along the first line of Deatheaters.  
  
"My dear..... friends," he began. His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it was icy cold and seemed to ring throughout the throne room of the dark fortress. He noticed some of the Deatheaters shivering and smirked again.  
  
"Lately, it has come to my attention, that one of you..... may not be as faithful towards me as he pretends....." Voldemort trailed off as whispers broke out among the Deatheaters.  
  
"Quiet!" he bellowed and the hall went deathly silent again.  
  
One could have heard a pin dropping, and the tension had risen to an almost unbearable level. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed the guilty Deatheater shifting nervously..... he seemed to sense that Voldemort knew it was him.  
  
"Yesss..." Voldemort continued, "one of you has betrayed me. The Deatheater I am talking about has been giving information to that muggle-loving fool, Dumbledore..... and has already done so fourteen years ago. How come I haven't noticed before....? It was so obvious at times..... not that it matters, now..... When this Deatheater returned to my service little over two weeks ago, I was suspicious..... yet I allowed him back into the Inner Circle. I presumed that maybe I had been wrong about him?"  
  
While he was talking, Voldemort continued along the row of Deatheaters, looking each in the eyes. All of them were quivering in fear, terrified that their master might think it was them..... Voldemort smirked again. Fools.  
  
"So, I had my faithful servant Wormtail spy on the man..... Wormtail is especially talented as a spy, are you not, Wormtail?"  
  
The rat-like man raised his head to look at his master.  
  
"Y-y-yes m-m-my l-lord..." he stammered.  
  
Voldemort scowled. "Stop stuttering when you talk to me!" Wormtail visibly flinched. "Y-yes m-my l-l-lord."  
  
Growling in frustration, Voldemort drew out his wand and pointed it at the man.  
  
"You will do as I say! Crucio!"  
  
Immediately, Wormtail dropped to the floor screaming, writhing in unbearable pain. Voldemort left him under the curse for almost thirty seconds, then took it off.  
  
"Next time, make sure to follow my orders, Wormtail!"  
  
Wormtail was on the floor, gasping for breath.  
  
"Y-yes my lord..." he managed to get out.  
  
Voldemort smirked again and went on.  
  
"As I said, I had Wormtail spy on the man..... and he brought me interesting news, very interesting indeed..... because this man was working as a double agent, passing information about our plans to Dumbledore and giving me wrong information about the Order of the Phoenix in turn....."  
  
Voldemort had now reached the end of the line and remained standing in front of the very last Deatheater. Nothing could be seen of the man's face under the mask except for his glittering beetle-black eyes that held no emotion whatsoever.  
  
"Severus Snape." Voldemort hissed, "Remove your mask."  
  
Whispers broke out again, whispers of both disbelief and relief. Disbelief because Snape had been in the Dark Lord's service for many years now and had been thought to be one of Voldemort's most faithful, and relief that Voldemort didn't think it was them.  
  
Snape, however, kept his calm appearance, though on the inside he was terrified. Voldemort knew, he had found out..... he was definitely doomed now. If only there was a way to contact Dumbledore..... but in his heart, Severus knew it was hopeless. He was going to die tonight, he knew it. Slowly, very slowly, he took off his Deatheater mask.  
  
"Severus Snape," Voldemort said again in his high, cold voice that always sent shivers down Severus's spine, "Do you admit that you are a spy for the other side? Do you admit that you have been passing valuable information to Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix for a long time, giving me wrong information in turn? Do you admit that you betrayed me, betrayed all of us here, a long time ago?"  
  
Severus looked calmly back into those demoniacal red eyes. If he was going to die anyway, he was going to do it properly.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry Potter, who had been watching all of this from the shadows, waited with bated breath for his potions master's answer. Snape sneered, looking straight into Voldemort's eyes. Then he spat into his master's face and said:  
  
"Yes, Voldemort. I betrayed you a long time ago. And I'm glad I did! I curse the day I ever decided to join with the likes of you and your Deatheaters! Go to hell, Riddle!"  
  
There was a deathly silence in the throne hall. The temperature suddenly seemed to drop ten degrees. Nobody dared to move, everyone (including Harry) was looking at Voldemort for his reaction.  
  
Voldemort wiped the spit away calmly and raised his wand.  
  
"Why, I am disappointed in you, Severus..... I had high hopes for you..... but if pain is what you want, I can certainly give it to you..... Crucio!"  
  
The curse hit Severus squarely in the chest. He dropped to his knees, biting his lip and trying to prevent the howl of agony that was trying to wrench itself out of his mouth.  
  
Harry watched in horror. He had to do something, he had to save Snape..... But his scar was on fire, making it hard to concentrate..... And besides, Harry knew there was really nothing he could do..... in all his dreams he always had to watch Voldemort or the Deatheaters torturing or killing people, and no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted to, he could never interfere, never help the people in his dreams..... And suddenly, it hit Harry that he was angry, more so than he had ever been before. He hated the feeling of always having to watch without being able to do something, he hated the feeling of being so helpless..... he hated the feeling that his very own potions master was right now writhing on the floor in front of Voldemort, and he, Harry, had to watch yet again.....  
  
At that moment, something inside Harry snapped. With a scream of fury, he launched out of the shadows and threw himself right in front of Voldemort's curse. It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever felt before, even worse than the Cruciatus Curses he had been hit with before..... but Harry paid no attention to the pain, focused completely on getting his (most-hated) teacher out of there.  
  
With some difficulty, Harry managed to turn around so that he was facing Professor Snape. The Professor stared wide-eyed at his most-hated student.  
  
"Potter? What the hell are you doing here? Are you out of your min- you're glowing!"  
  
Harry looked down on himself. Snape was right. He was glowing a bright gold, mingled with pure white and a little bit of blue. But somehow, that didn't seem important right now, and the pain from the Cruciatus Curse was slowly driving him to the brink of insanity. Without really knowing what he was doing, Harry raised his hand and pointed it at his Professor.  
  
"Mitto Severus Snape ad Hogwarts!" he shouted.  
  
A beam of pure white light shot out of his hand and hit Severus, who promptly vanished. Behind him, Harry heard Voldemort's scream of rage, then the pain became too much for him and the Boy-who-lived knew no more.  
  
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Harry opened his eyes with a groan. His scar, no his head, hell, his whole body hurt like he had just been hit with the Cruciatus Curse..... and then the details of his dream came rushing back to Harry. Snape! Was he alright? He had to write to Dumbledore, immediately!  
  
But then it occurred to Harry that that wouldn't be necessary. If Snape was alright, he would tell Dumbledore himself. And if the dream never happened, well, then at least Harry wouldn't make a fool of himself.  
  
Groping around for his glasses, Harry realized for the first time that it was still dark in his room at the Dursleys. Everything slid into focus and Harry propped himself up on to his elbows and looked at the display of Dudley's old alarm clock. It was 2.30. Harry slumped back on to the bed with a groan. Taking off his glasses again, Harry turned so that he was looking out of the window and up at the moon (it had been full moon two days ago,) and knew it would be yet another sleepless night.  
  
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The Entrance doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry flew open with a bang. Severus Snape stormed into the castle, his black Deatheater robes billowing after him making him look very much like an overgrown vampire bat. This impression was only heightened by the dark scowl and the look of- concern? etched into his face.  
  
The man was walking stiffly, like something was causing him quite some pain, and he was clutching his left forearm.  
  
Coming to a halt in front of a stone gargoyle he spat a password ("Milky Way!") and stepped on to the moving staircase behind it.  
  
Finally he arrived at a great oak door and knocked. After a few seconds of impatient waiting Snape heard someone calling  
  
"Come in!" and he stepped into the headmaster's office.  
  
Even though it was very late (a glance at the clock in the corner of the room showed Severus that it was 2.35) there were still many people in Dumbledore's office. In fact, there was the whole Order of the Phoenix Council, which, at the moment, consisted of Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, Vektor, Snape himself and Dumbledore, and Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Hagrid, Mad-Eye-Moody, Arthur Weasley and his two oldest sons, Bill and Charlie.  
  
"Severus!" Dumbledore called shocked. He stood up quickly and helped his youngest staff member into a chair. "You look awful! What happened?"  
  
Severus sighed wearily and rubbed his eyes.  
  
"If only I knew", he said, frowning slightly.  
  
"Why, Severus? What do you mean by that?" his colleague Minerva McGonagall asked primly.  
  
Severus sighed again and began telling them about the Deatheater meeting.  
  
"We didn't know why he was calling tonight. When we arrived he made us stand in lines and just sat on his throne for a few minutes. Then he told us that he had found out that one us was a spy for you....."  
  
The people in the room gasped.  
  
"But how? How could he have found out?" Sirius asked in shock.  
  
Snape glared at him.  
  
"I was getting to that, Black. Anyway, he said the person he was talking about had only re-entered his ranks two weeks ago. Apparently he had sent Wormtail (at this Sirius growled) to spy on the man..... Then Voldemort stopped in front of me and told me to take off my mask. He knew that it was me. I was sure that I was going to die tonight."  
  
The room was silent, the Order was listening with bated breath. Their faces showed concern for their friend and/or colleague or curiosity as to why he was still alive (Moody, Black, Bill and Charlie). Severus went on.  
  
"He made me admit to his face that I was the spy. Then he placed me under the Cruciatus Curse.....and then, something very strange happened. I don't know how long I was under that curse, it felt like an eternity to me. But suddenly, a figure launched out of the shadows and threw itself in front of the curse, shielding me from it. It was a boy, judging by the size, a teenager. And the strangest thing was, he was glowing with gold, white and blue light."  
  
Silence. Nobody could think of anything to say. Finally Remus Lupin broke the silence by asking:  
  
"Severus..... did you see who it was?"  
  
Snape nodded, slowly.  
  
"Yes, he turned around though he was still under the curse and undoubtedly in pain. It..... It was Potter....." Sirius stood up so quickly that his chair crashed to the floor.  
  
"WHAT? HARRY? MY GODSON?" he shouted in anger and fear, all but showering Snape with spittle.  
  
Severus leaned back and eyed him with annoyance.  
  
"Black, all of us here are perfectly capable of hearing. You don't have to shout. And yes, it was your godson. And no, I don't know why he was there, or what happened to him, the only thing I know is that he was there and that he was glowing and that he somehow got me out of there."  
  
"He did what?" Moody asked incredulously.  
  
"As I said, he somehow got me out of there. He pointed his hand at me and said something that sounded like 'Mitto Severus Snape ad Hogwarts', though I'm not entirely sure." "  
  
Mitto Severus Snape ad Hogwarts?" Filius Flitwick squeaked confusedly. "It is Latin, but I have never heard of that. Though I'm not an expert on transportation charms I'm sure there hasn't been a charm like that in the past 763 years. Maybe it's an ancient charm?"  
  
Dumbledore looked pensive.  
  
"That is something to look into, Filius. I think what we really need to do now, though, is call this meeting to an end (as it is quite late) and contact Harry. Next meeting will be in three days, I will make sure that Harry has arrived here by then. Good night."  
  
One by one, the Order members stood and left the room.  
  
Severus was the last to leave. As he trudged down to his quarters in the dungeons, he couldn't help worrying about Potter. He hadn't seen the boy's face for a long time, but he had almost been sure that there had been bruises. And the look in his eyes, though it could have come from being under the Cruciatus Curse, had been strangely dull. And Severus could have sworn that Potter hadn't been that thin when he had left Hogwarts little over a week ago.  
  
As he looked up at the moon that was shining through the dungeon window, he inwardly prayed that Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, was alright. Little did he know that somewhere, hundreds of miles away, a small fourteen-year- old boy with messy black hair and slightly dulled emerald green eyes was doing the same for him.  
  
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A/N: Well, what do you think? Good? Bad? Please review and let me know! This is my first story, so please be gentle. Constructive criticism is welcome!  
  
See ya!  
  
Felinity 


	2. Chapter Two: The Rescue

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers  
  
Disclaimer: I still don't own anything!!!  
  
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This chapter is dedicated to Keitaya, who was the first person to review!!!  
  
And now, on with the story...  
  
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Chapter 2  
  
The Rescue  
  
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"Boy! Get down here this instant! We want our breakfast!"  
  
Harry groaned. Like he had presumed, he hadn't slept at all that night. He rolled himself out of his bed, put on his glasses and trudged down the stairs slowly, trying not to aggravate his various bruises too much.  
  
Since his return from Hogwarts, things at 4 Privet Drive had become considerably worse. The Dursleys had apparently lost their fear of Harry's godfather, the sole fact that had him survive through the previous summer.  
  
To make matters even worse, Uncle Vernon was still fuming after of the Ton- Tongue-Toffee-Incident that had occurred before the Quidditch World Cup the summer before. So his uncle had resorted to doing something else he enjoyed, and it wasn't drills or golf.  
  
When Harry arrived in the kitchen, the Dursleys were already there, sitting at the table, waiting for their breakfast. Uncle Vernon looked up from his newspaper and shot a glare at Harry.  
  
"About bloody time!" he snapped. "Now hurry up, you still have to finish your chores for the day. And no food today, because you are late!" he finished maliciously.  
  
Harry sighed as he started to prepare his 'family's' food. He wasn't sure how long the human body could survive without food, but he knew that it couldn't be much longer than two weeks.  
  
Harry hadn't had any food since his return from Hogwarts, which had been more than a week ago.  
  
As punishment for who he was, the Dursleys made him prepare all meals, tend to the garden, clean the house, the car and anything else that came to their mind.  
  
The worst so far had been cleaning the bathroom after Dudley had used it one night.  
  
Harry thought deep down that his cousin had done it deliberately.  
  
When the prospect of all this work hadn't seemed to phase Harry too much, Uncle Vernon had lost his temper. It had been a nasty shock to Harry, as the Dursleys hadn't hurt him in years- well, not after he'd received his first Hogwarts-letter, that is. Harry now had several bruises, a dislocated wrist and constant headache.  
  
Vernon's new habit was acted out whenever he felt the need, with or without provocation, often using Dudley's Smeltings stick.  
  
His back still hurt from that onslaught, and that had been on his second night back.  
  
Harry hadn't been able to sleep well at all since he had come back from Hogwarts, and when he finally did manage to fall asleep, he was plagued by nightmares about the TriWizard Tournament or about Voldemort. After each nightmare his scar was hurting and he was more tired than before.  
  
Harry thought about Cedric a lot. It wasn't like he had much else to do while weeding the garden and lying awake at night.  
  
With the emotional turmoil, lack of food, endless work and physical battering, Harry wasn't very well. His body was under constant strain, so it was no surprise when he developed a slight fever.  
  
Harry sighed as he flipped the bacon over in the frying pan. He didn't bother even thinking of stealing a piece, all eyes were on him as he cooked, and he didn't think his body would hold up to the repercussions.  
  
He had become very dizzy, working in the garden yesterday, and blacked out. This had caused a fresh burst of Uncle Vernon's wrath. He had tried to tell him that he wasn't sleeping, that he was sick, but it just made things worse. Apparently, he was 'endangering Dudders's health with his freakish illness'- never mind that it was probably just an influenzal infection.  
  
All in all, it had been a pretty bad summer for Harry so far, and he couldn't write even to his friends for support because Hedwig was locked up in her cage. The Dursleys had also placed bars on the windows so he couldn't receive any post. Or so they thought. Pigwidgeon was small enough to fit through the bars, but of course Ron hadn't written to Harry yet as it was still so early in the summer.  
  
Luckily, Harry still had enough owl treats, so at least Hedwig wasn't suffering.  
  
Harry was brought out of his reverie by his uncle's hand connecting solidly with the back of his head. Harry looked up dazedly.  
  
"Boy! What do you think you are doing? You're burning Dudley's bacon!" Harry didn't even have time to see if that was true, as his uncle was already hauling him roughly up the stairs and to his room.  
  
"Haven't you learnt your lesson yet boy?" Harry didn't answer. He knew what was coming and braced himself for the pain.....  
  
And then the first blow came. His uncle's boot connected solidly with his ribs. Harry could feel them crack under the force and his breath being knocked out of him.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to feel as little as possible. Wasn't there a way to disconnect body and mind? There had to be, he thought desperately as his uncle grabbed Dudley's Smeltings stick and started to beat him with it. He was vaguely aware of begging Uncle Vernon to stop, then he succumbed to blissful oblivion.  
  
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When he awoke again, it was dark in his room at the Dursleys. The moon was shining brightly and Harry noticed an owl in front of his window. It was bearing the Hogwarts crest. Just as Harry was looking at it, it spread its wings and took off flying again. The poor bird had probably been waiting for quite some time to be let in.  
  
Harry himself was still lying on the floor and, he noticed with disgust, his clothes were tattered and sticky with sweat and a little blood. He tried to get up, but immediately fell back with a groan. His right arm and probably a few of his ribs were broken. He was bruised and hurting all over.  
  
At that moment Harry was sized by a violent coughing fit. It hurt deeply in his chest and Harry noticed with a great shock that he was coughing up blood. Did he have any internal injuries? Harry hoped not. But he didn't have much time to ponder this, as the coughing spell had left him weak and dizzy and Harry soon lost consciousness again.  
  
  
~*~   
  
Albus Dumbledore paced the floor of his office worriedly. The owl he had sent to Harry last night had just returned with the letter unopened. Why hadn't Harry received his letter?  
  
Albus had thought at first that maybe Harry wasn't home, but one of the protection spells on 4 Privet Drive clearly said that all the occupants of the house were there. Had something gone wrong? Maybe Harry was sick? But then he would have been able to at least take the letter off.....  
  
This was getting him nowhere. Coming to a quick decision, Dumbledore took a handful of some strange blue powder out of a jar beside his fire place and threw it into the flames.  
  
"Severus, Minerva! I need to talk to you. Please come to my office immediately. This is important!"  
  
A few minutes later he heard quick footsteps approaching his office, and then the heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin house burst through the door.  
  
"You wanted to talk to us?" Minerva asked, slightly out of breath. Albus nodded.  
  
"Yes. Thank you two for coming so quickly. I will get straight to the point. You remember how I said that we had to contact Harry and bring him here for the next meeting?"  
  
The two teachers nodded.  
  
Albus continued.  
  
"Well, I sent an owl to him last night with a letter that would work as a portkey after explaining everything to him. The thing is, the owl returned to me just now- but the letter was unopened. Though I have no real explanation, I'm very worried about Harry. I checked the wards protecting his aunt and uncle's house in Surrey, and they clearly stated that Harry, as well as the other members of the family, was home at the time. I would like you two to come with me to check up on Harry and bring him here immediately. Unless you have other plans?"  
  
The tone of the headmaster's voice made it obvious that he didn't want any arguments, so that was really a rhetorical question.  
  
Minerva and Severus glanced at each other, then back at Albus and agreed.  
  
Together the three of them left the office and used one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade. They then apparated into a small alley near Privet Drive. It was very late in the evening and most of the muggles were already asleep.  
  
Without talking much, Minerva, Albus and Severus walked along the deserted streets until they stopped in front of a certain house in Privet Drive.  
  
Albus quickly drew out his wand and pointed it at the door.  
  
"Alohomora!" The door opened quietly. Albus put a silencing spell on the muggle alarm system ("Tace!") and then they stepped into the house.  
  
After quickly searching the downstairs rooms and not finding anything but Harry's trunk in the cupboard under the stairs (which Minerva shrunk and put into her pocket) the trio went up the stairs. Opening the first door to the left, they stepped into a luxurious bathroom. The second door led to the master bedroom.  
  
The Dursleys (Petunia and Vernon) were sleeping fitfully. Minerva cast a quick sleeping charm on them so they wouldn't wake up before eight o'clock in the morning. The third door opened to a huge room stuffed with muggle toys and electronic devices. Snoring in the bed was Harry's *enormously* fat cousin Dudley. Severus's lip curled in disgust as he cast a sleeping charm over the whale-like boy.  
  
That left only one door.  
  
Opening it, the three of them expected to see much the same things as in the other rooms: luxurious furniture, expensive muggle devices, rich carpeting..... but the sight that met their eyes was a completely different one.  
  
The room was sparsely furnished, there was really only a bed, a desk and a cupboard. The bed looked uncomfortable, the blanket was thin and looked like it was at least 10 years old..... with some amount of shock Minerva and Albus recognised the blanket Harry had been wrapped in when they had left him on the Dursleys' door step almost 14 years before.  
  
Had those people never given him anything else? In one corner of the room there was a cage with a snowy owl that was peering at them with curiosity and worry in her beautiful, yellow eyes.  
  
On the floor in the middle of the room lay a bundle of clothes.  
  
Where was Harry? Severus closed the door behind them and pulled out his wand again. "Lumos!" he shouted and immediately the room was brightly lit by his wand.  
  
The three adults gasped in shock.  
  
What they had thought to be a bundle of clothing turned out to be a person. Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived. He was lying on the floor, completely silent, his right arm at a strange angle.  
  
What could be seen of his skin through the torn clothes, was covered in bruises and slight lacerations. Harry's face was deathly pale and on his left cheek there was a boot-shaped bruise. Apparently, Harry had received kicks to his head at some point.  
  
The trio stared down in disbelief at the boy who had only left Hogwarts little over a week ago.  
  
Minerva had silent tears streaming down her face.  
  
Severus looked extremely pale and was biting his lip.  
  
Albus had completely lost the twinkle in his eyes and was looking very grave. For the first time in ages the lines that were now on his face showed how old he truly was.  
  
Silently, Albus conjured up a stretcher and levitated Harry onto it. Severus picked up Harry's owl while Minerva removed Harry's wand and invisibility cloak from under a loose floor board, having detected them with a simple "Inveni-Bona"- spell, and they quickly left the house.  
  
Walking back to the alley they had come from they were relieved not to run into anyone. Then they apparated to Hogsmeade and used the secret passage back to Hogwarts.  
  
All of them breathed a sigh of relief when they finally opened the front doors of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They made it to the hospital wing in next to no time.  
  
"Poppy!" Severus called. Madame Pomfrey came bursting out of her office. She gasped when she saw Harry.  
  
"Goodness! What happened to him? Put him on the bed, quickly!"  
  
Minerva levitated Harry carefully onto the next bed. Madame Pomfrey began to wave her wand over Harry's still form and mutter to herself.  
  
While she was scanning Harry Albus, Severus and Minerva filled her in on the evening's events.  
  
Poppy gasped when she heard how they had found the boy and began an endless tirade about incompetent, cruel muggles and poor defenceless children thrown at their mercy.  
  
Albus let her rant and rave for a few minutes, then he interrupted her gently.  
  
"How is he, Poppy?"  
  
Madame Pomfrey looked back at Harry still lying on the bed unconsciously and her face softened. She sighed and said:  
  
"He's not too good, headmaster. He has a broken right arm, dislocated wrist, three or four cracked ribs, and quite a bit of bruising, as well as a few slight lacerations.  
  
He is suffering from severe malnutrition as well as slight dehydration. To make it even better he has the worst case of Dragon Pox I've ever seen, which, as you know, can be deadly to teenagers. At the moment he's running a high fever, 105.7 degrees, and it's still mounting."  
  
She turned and addressed the Potions Master.  
  
"Severus, I need a fever reducing potion immediately. Minerva, kindly get the bath ready with cool water, we need to clean Harry up and it might bring down his fever for a while. Albus, please help me with getting him ready for the bath."  
  
The three nodded and Minerva and Severus left the room. Albus and Poppy gently took off Harry's clothing, fighting their nausea. Harry's chest and back were covered with bruises, many boot-shaped like the one on his cheek, and the lacerations still seeped a little blood..  
  
Albus gently lifted Harry up, not caring if his robes got dirty. He felt incredibly guilty for ever leaving Harry with those muggles. How long had it been like this? Among the cuts and bruises on his back there were a few very old scars that showed clearly that this wasn't the first time Harry had been abused.  
  
They stepped into the bathroom where Minerva was already waiting. She gasped in horror at the sight of her favourite student (though she would never admit it, Harry had touched a part of her heart that no student had ever before- apart from his mother, Lily Potter, and Hermione Granger to an extent).  
  
Albus gently lowered Harry into the cool water and together the three of them cleaned the blood from his skin.  
  
Then they carefully dried him and put him into one of the hospital wing pyjamas.  
  
Albus carried him back to his bed and they gave him the fever reducing potion that Severus had made. Madam Pomfrey healed all the cuts and bruises and other injuries as well as she could.  
  
"Will he be alright?" Minerva asked, almost afraid of the answer.  
  
"I don't know." Poppy said quietly and sadly, "I just don't know."  
  
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For the next two days, neither Severus, Minerva, Albus or Madam Pomfrey left Harry's side. The boy was delirious and obviously had horrible nightmares but he never woke up. The house-elves brought them food, though none of them were eating much.  
  
All four of them were worried about the small, fourteen-year-old teenager lying in the bed in front of them who was currently fighting for his life.  
  
The wounds had healed nicely and all Harry would be keeping from them were two thin scars on his back to add to the ones that were already there.  
  
The reason why Harry was still fighting for his life was the severe case of Dragon Pox. Despite the fever reducing potions and cool baths and antibiotics he had received, the illness seemed to get worse every day.  
  
Madam Pomfrey had said that by tonight they would know if Harry would live or not. Should his fever (107.1) not go down till ten o'clock tonight, there would be no chance of survival for Harry.  
  
Now, it was 8.30 at night and the fever still hadn't dropped one degree, if anything it had gotten even higher. The people in the room found themselves losing hope rapidly, as much as they tried to prevent this.  
  
Severus was feeling incredibly guilty. He had thought that Potter had been pampered by his family. This was one of the reasons, though not the main reason, why he had treated the boy so horribly.  
  
Now he felt sorry for this and wanted to apologise to Potter badly, though the boy would probably never accept it. Severus would never be able to forgive himself should- Harry die now.  
  
Minerva was feeling much like Severus. She hadn't treated Harry badly, but she had never shown him the affection she was really feeling for him, never told him of the special bond she and Lily had shared, and never tried to create this bond between the two of them. There were times, though, when Harry let down his guard, that she could see that he craved for someone to care about him, love him like a son, not a friend.  
  
She vowed that should Harry survive, she would immediately take care of that.  
  
Albus was still feeling guilty. How could he have not seen just how badly Harry had been treated by the Dursleys? Harry had always been so small and skinny, especially when he had come back from the Dursleys. He should never have left Harry with those people.....  
  
He swore to himself that he would make this up to Harry.  
  
After another hour of silent brooding it was 9.30, and finally something happened. The parchment above Harry's head that showed his temperature among other things glowed red, which meant that something was changing.  
  
All four people stared at the parchment with bated breath.  
  
The temperature still read 107.1 degrees. And then, ever so slowly, the writing changed...  
  
A/N: HEHE! CLIFFHANGER!!!!!!! A/N: Nah, I'm not that evil.......  
107.0. And seconds later, 106.9, 106.8.....  
  
Albus laughed delightedly, feeling like a VERY big stone had just been lifted from his heart.  
  
Minerva sunk back in her chair, feeling more exhausted and relieved than ever before and smiling broadly.  
  
Severus's reaction was the most unexpected: For the first time in many, many years the man smiled- not sneered, or smirked, but really smiled, a true, genuine smile.  
  
*************************************************************************** A/N: (FOR REAL THIS TIME): Ya know, I was really tempted to leave you there and have a nice little cliffie *whistles innocently*... but, oh well, as Aphrodite71685 pointed out to me in her review, cliffhangers aren't healthy for a reader and I wouldn't want any of you to become sick, right? ^_^  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!!!  
  
See ya! Felinity 


	3. Chapter Three: Family Affairs

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters you might recognise! They belong to JK Rowling.  
  
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Chapter 3  
  
Of Recoveries and Pleasant Surprises  
  
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Harry had been floating in the strange black mist for a while now. At the beginning he had tried to move around in there, but all there was was darkness. Now, suddenly there was a change. He could see light ahead, a small tunnel leading to the only thing other than darkness he had seen in what felt like days. Immediately Harry began to "swim" there. It was difficult, it seemed like the strange mist was holding him back, clawing at him, closing in on him..... but Harry continued to fight until he finally reached the light.....  
  
~*~  
  
Slowly, Harry opened his eyes. And blinked in confusion. He was in the hospital wing of Hogwarts, he recognised the place. (After all he had only been here around two weeks ago.) Why wasn't he in his bed at the Dursleys? And why..... and then it hit him. All the memories of the past few weeks came rushing back to him. The TriWizard Tournament..... Cedric, dead on the ground..... Voldemort returning..... his parents' ghosts..... Cedric's echo..... the chores..... the illness..... the abuse..... uncle Vernon hitting him, even when he was begging for mercy..... he felt like he was being crushed by the very air in the room..... It all became too much for Harry.  
  
He curled up into a little ball, ignoring the slight pain in his back, chest, arms and legs and scrunched up his face desperately, trying not to cry. He was almost fifteen, damnit!  
  
He heard sudden movement behind him, the quiet gasp of a female voice that sounded distinctly familiar..... and then, warm arms wrapped themselves around Harry. The boy stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed back into the embrace and just let all the pain and frustration out for a few minutes.  
  
Finally, he stopped crying but didn't move. He enjoyed the warmth that spread all through him at being hugged like this, like a son. This was how Harry imagined having parents must be like. After a few minutes though, curiosity won out and he turned around to see who was holding him. His eyes widened a little in surprise.  
  
"Professor McGonagall?" he asked softly.  
  
His head-of-house smiled slightly sadly down at him.  
  
"Yes, Harry?"  
  
Harry blinked, taken aback. Had McGonagall just called him by his first name? And she was..... comforting him? Holding him like he were her son!? Harry took a while to recover from the shock and phrase his next question.  
  
"Professor, why..... am I here? How did I get here....." Harry trailed off. "And why..." he started again, unsure of how to ask the thing that was really on his mind.  
  
Professor McGonagall seemed to sense that something was wrong, because she said:  
  
"Spit it out, Harry!"  
  
Harry frowned.  
  
"Professor, if you don't mind, but I was wondering, well, kind of, why you are, er, you know, I mean..." Harry fell silent again, realising that he was rambling.  
  
"Why I am doing this?" Minerva finished his question for him.  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Well, to answer your first question, you didn't receive the letter Albus sent you, he became worried and we checked on you. You gave us quite a scare, lying there on the floor, unconscious..... for a moment we thought... thought that you had...died..." Minerva sounded like she had a very bad cold for a second.  
  
"And you are wondering why I'm doing this?"  
  
Harry nodded, again.  
  
Minerva sighed deeply.  
  
"Harry, there is something I haven't told you. Your mother and I were..... very good friends. Already when she was a student here I could not help liking her..... she was such a kind person.....  
  
"One evening, in her third year, I was walking to the kitchens to get myself a cup of coffee; when I passed the astronomy tower I thought I heard the sound of a child crying up there. As you know, it's forbidden to be on the tower, especially after dark, so I went up. In case you haven't guessed yet, it was your mother, Lily Evans, and she was crying. I could not bring myself to punish her, so I comforted her and asked her what was wrong.  
  
"She told me that her parents had been killed in an attack by Voldemort that night. I didn't punish her, and from that moment on we were friends. I sort of became her surrogate mother..... she came to me when she had any problems and let me in on most of her secrets. I was the first person to know that Lily was pregnant with you..." Minerva smiled fondly in remembrance. "Lily was so happy, Harry..... and when you were born, she named me your godmother."  
  
Harry gasped. He couldn't believe it.  
  
"You are my godmother?"  
  
Minerva nodded, looking slightly anxious, which looked strange on the stern professor . "Yes, Harry. When Lily and James were killed..... I fought to get custody of you. But Dumbledore and the ministry thought you would be safer with the Dursleys because of the blood ties that you and I weren't sharing. I'm sorry, Harry, but I could do nothing, and you were sent to live with those miserable excuses for human beings that call themselves the Dursleys.  
  
"When you came to Hogwarts almost four years ago, I wanted to tell you the truth so badly..... but I thought it would be better for you to remain with the people you had already been living with for the past ten years. And I was sure you would never accept me anyway, I thought you would be furious, angry with me for not telling you sooner..... I had no idea just how badly you had been treated by those Dursleys..... and of course I couldn't show any favouritism, which is why I was especially hard on you. You are a good lad, Harry, you can't imagine how proud I am of you and I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me."  
  
Harry stared at his newly-found godmother with a torrent of emotions. A part of him wanted to be very angry at her for not telling him sooner. Another part seemed to have lost all coherent thought and screamed "I have a godmother! I have a godmother!" over and over again. The third part had gone completely numb and was still reeling with thoughts and shock. But the biggest (and most sensible) part of him accepted her reasoning. Suddenly, Harry felt a great wave of happiness rushing through him. He had a godmother! Slowly, he began to smile at his transfigurations professor.  
  
"I'm not angry at you, Professor."  
  
Minerva looked startled.  
  
"You're not?"  
  
Harry shook his head, still smiling.  
  
"At least..... not much."  
  
Minerva looked at him for a moment, face completely expressionless, then she began to smile, too, and pulled her godson into another hug. Harry let himself be hugged gladly and relished in the feeling of being held like this.  
  
"Oh, and Harry," Minerva mumbled into his hair, "when we are alone or when only Albus or Severus or Poppy are around, call me Minerva. I am your godmother after all."  
  
Harry smiled slightly.  
  
"Of course, I'd love to." Then he stifled a huge yawn. He suddenly felt extremely tired again. Minerva looked at him sternly.  
  
"Go back to sleep now, Harry, you're still very weak. I'll be there when you wake up."  
  
Harry nodded and curled up again.  
  
"Good night, Minerva." He mumbled tiredly. It felt strange calling her by her first name.  
  
"Sleep well, Emrys."  
  
Emrys? What... but before he could finish the thought, he had already fallen asleep.  
  
~*~  
  
When Harry woke up again, he felt much more refreshed than before. He stretched and yawned widely..... and suddenly heard chuckles all around him.  
  
He opened his eyes, startled, and found himself face to face with Minerva, Snape, Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.  
  
"Good morning, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said kindly. "I trust you slept well?"  
  
Harry smiled back at him.  
  
"Yes, thank you."  
  
Then Professor Dumbledore sobered a little.  
  
"I heard Minerva has already dropped a bombshell on you this morning?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Are you alright, Harry?"  
  
Harry smiled briefly at his godmother and nodded again.  
  
"Good. Unfortunately, this won't be the only shocking news today, but for now, Harry, Minerva and I will be leaving you alone, Severus wants to talk to you."  
  
Harry thought this to be a little strange. Why would Professor Snape want to talk to him? The greasy, slimy Potions master who had done nothing but humiliate and torture him for the past four years, wanted to talk to him, Harry Potter, out of his own, free will?  
  
He nodded nonetheless. But just when they were leaving he remembered something.  
  
"Oh, er, Minerva?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes?" Minerva turned back. Harry chewed his lip for a second.  
  
"Why did you call me Emrys?" Minerva smiled.  
  
"I was wondering when you'd ask, Harry. It has been our nickname for you ever since you were born, because of the rather unique colour of your eyes. Emeralds, you see? Nobody knows who called you Emrys first..... but it did seem to fit you, and you liked it, so we left it at that. There is another reason as well, but- I think Albus will explain that to you later tonight..... Does this answer your question?"  
  
Harry nodded, wondering what that other reason was.  
  
"For now."  
  
Minerva and Professor Dumbledore smiled and left the room.  
  
Harry turned his attention to Snape. If he hadn't known better, he would have said that the professor looked almost..... nervous. But of course, that was impossible. Severus Snape, snarky Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry simply did not have feelings, save for contempt, hatred, and maybe favouritism for his Slytherins! Everyone knew that.  
  
Neither of the two wizards spoke for a while until the silence had become almost unbearable. Harry decided to break it then.  
  
"Um, Professor, you, er, wanted to talk to me?" he asked, feeling rather stupid. But he couldn't think of anything else to say. However, his words seemed to have broken the ice, because Snape nodded and said:  
  
"Yes, Mr. Potter." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. Severus sighed mentally. This was going to be harder than he had thought.  
  
"Alright, Potter, what I'm about to tell you won't be easy for me. So I must ask that you please not interrupt me." He paused again, waiting for Harry to give a nod of understanding. Then he continued.  
  
"Harry. This story starts when both your father and I were ten years old. We had been living in the same village, Godric's hollow, and in the same street for almost two years, but we had never even talked. By the time my family had moved there, James had already been friends with Sirius Black, another wizard boy our age from the village, for quite some time. Sirius despised me. There was no reason, not that I know of anyway, he just hated me the instant he first saw me. So, I kept away from him and James, which was fine with my parents. You see, Potter, the Snapes are one of the oldest wizarding families there are, as are the Potters. But the Snapes have always been in Slytherin, just as every single Potter has been in Gryffindor.  
  
"That fateful summer evening, however, I was outside, playing at the small but dangerously rapid stream running through the village. I thought I saw something glittering in the water, leaned forward..... and lost my balance. There was nothing I could do, I screamed and fell into the river. I could not swim very well, and the current was way too strong for me. I was desperate, because I knew that just outside the village there was a big cascade. I wouldn't survive the fall, I would be crushed by the water or smattered against the rocks..... But then, suddenly, someone shouted "Catch!" and a rope landed in the water right in front of me. I grabbed it immediately and whoever it was that was helping me started to pull me to the shore.  
  
"Luckily, I hadn't swallowed much water yet and was quite fine, apart from the fact that I was soaking wet. Then the person asked: "You okay?" I looked up..... it was James, Mr. Potter, your father, and he had saved my life. I will never know why he had a rope with him.  
  
"From that moment on, we became...well, not friends, but we weren't enemies anymore either. I think we could have been friends one day, but then we both came to Hogwarts and were sorted into different houses. You know the rivalry between the houses, especially between Slytherin and Gryffindor. I had friends in my own house, he had friends in Gryffindor. I sank deeper and deeper into the darkness.  
  
"In our fourth year I accepted Voldemort's offer and joined the ranks of the Deatheaters. And then, in our sixth year, there was the incident with the Whomping Willow. I thought James had helped to play that dangerous prank on me and had backed out in the last minute. I hated him for that. I hated him even more for saving my life - again! because now I was more in his debt than ever before. But it shook me up, too. I decided to repay James without his knowledge by turning back to the light side. Everyone knew that Voldemort was after the Potters, though not many people knew why.  
  
"So, the next day, I went to Dumbledore and confessed everything. I offered to be a spy for him, so that he would know about Voldemort's attacks before they actually took place.  
  
"Albus was disappointed in me because I had joined the Deatheaters. But he also gave me a second chance. I have been spying for him ever since. Unfortunately I wasn't able to save James and Lily from Voldemort, as I had hoped. I was not too deep in Voldemort's inner circle, he didn't trust me very much. Only his closest servants, Lucius Malfoy, for example, or Pettigrew- though I didn't know that at the time, of course- knew about his most important plans- such as murdering the Potters. I can't tell you why, Potter, but I think Dumbledore will, later today.  
  
"So, you see, Mr. Potter, I never really hated your father. I so wish we could have been friends....."  
  
Severus trailed off and stared out of the window for a few moments. It was a cloudy day, and it was cool for July.  
  
Harry released his breath. He hadn't even realized that he had been holding it in the first place. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Snape and his father, friends? Or maybe not friends, but..... why was Snape telling him all that? What did it have to do with him, Harry?  
  
As if sensing the teen's confusion, Severus turned back to smile at Harry, sadly.  
  
"You are probably wondering why I am even telling you all of this. When you first came to Hogwarts, almost four years ago, you looked so much like James..... it scared me. And you acted so much like him, too. So there you were, and every time I looked at you I saw James, glaring at me accusingly. You were a living reminder of my failure to protect him and Lily, and you. Yes, Lily too. You have her eyes, though I'm sure you know that. This is the main reason why I hated you so much..... I couldn't bear looking at you because it made me feel so guilty. The other reason was that I thought you had been pampered by that family of yours..... you were famous, you always seemed to get everything you wanted really badly..... I was bitter, angry, even jealous, I admit.  
  
"And then, of course, I had to at least pretend to hate you- not that I'm pretending I didn't- , because of the many Deatheaters and Deatheater children, like Draco Malfoy, that were watching my every move. I had to keep up the façade, because I knew that someday Voldemort would be back and I would take my position as a spy again.  
  
"What I'm really trying to tell you, Potter, is that..... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I treated you the way I did over the past few years. I know that you will probably not believe or forgive me. And you have every right not to, after what I've done to you. I'm sorry, Potter."  
  
Severus got up quickly and headed for the door. He would give Potter time to think about this. Besides, he really needed to be alone for a while now. Severus Snape was a proud man, he did not apologise often, much less allow another person a view of his feelings. He had no hopes that the Potter boy would understand the expanse of his gift, but maybe he would forgive Severus one day.  
  
"Professor!" Severus was brought out of his reverie by Harry's voice. Arching an eyebrow, he turned back to face Harry.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Potter?"  
  
Harry stared at Snape for a long second.  
  
"Thank you," he said, very softly.  
  
Snape seemed startled.  
  
"What ever for?" he asked, feeling confused.  
  
"For telling me." Harry answered, earnestly. "For..... caring. Not many people would have done what you did, you know that, don't you, professor? And..... if my dad were here now, I'm sure he would have loved to become your friend."  
  
Severus stared at the boy. Slowly, he felt the corners of his mouth lift into a smile.  
  
"You are not angry? No rants about your evil, slimy Potions professor? No cursing of Slytherins in general?"  
  
Harry grinned shook his head.  
  
"We all make mistakes. I forgive you, professor."  
  
Severus could feel his smile broaden and turn into a smirk.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Potter," he said, not missing a beat. "Of course, I shouldn't have expected anything else from Gryffindor's golden boy."  
  
Harry gaped wordlessly at the professor's retreating back.  
  
"You know I was almost in Slytherin?" he finally shouted, just before Snape could shut the door.  
  
The expression on Severus Snape's face was worth all the points that had ever been taken from Gryffindor House by said professor.  
  
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A/N: Please review! Thanks to all the people who reviewed the last chapter!!!  
  
See ya,  
  
Felinity ^_^ 


	4. Chapter Four: The Prophecy

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine!!! It's JK Rowling's!!!  
  
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Chapter 4: Of Truths revealed  
  
**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************  
  
After his startling talk with Professor Snape, Harry just lay on his back for a few minutes and stared at the ceiling, his grin slowly fading. His mind was a mess of jumbled thoughts, he was slightly confused by what he had heard and still trying to understand the way Snape's and his father's minds worked. His mind was also reeling with thoughts about the TriWizard Tournament and the incredible guilt he was still feeling for Cedric's death.  
  
Harry didn't know how long he had been lying there just staring off into space when he was suddenly brought out of his reverie by a gentle hand on his shoulder.  
  
Looking up sharply, he found himself face-to-face with none other than Albus Dumbledore, who was peering at him with worry in his eyes. Behind the headmaster there were Minerva and Professor Snape, both of whom were regarding him with similar expressions.  
  
Harry turned his attention back to Dumbledore.  
  
"Harry.....are you alright?" headmaster asked concernedly.  
  
Harry blinked. What was he supposed to say? He wasn't alright, of course he wasn't. He probably wouldn't be 'alright' for quite some time. ( At least that's what he felt like now.)  
  
Not with all those nightmares about Cedric, the guilt and those horrible memories of the third task and the Dursleys.  
  
Harry had once heard an old man say to another: 'Death lasts during the whole life and probably ends as soon as it occurs.'  
  
Harry almost smiled, wryly. At that time the saying had sounded horrible to him, he had got away from the men as soon as possible.  
  
Now, though, he thought that there was a deep truth to the statement. It was a good description of how he felt right now:  
  
Like over the years, more and more parts of his soul had died, starting with the rejection of the Dursleys for as long as he could remember, to his first year here at Hogwarts, when everybody had shunned him because he had lost 150 house points just for helping a friend, going on to second year when people had refused to even look at him just because he could talk to snakes, third year, when he had had to witness his parents' death over and over again every time he had come near a dementor, and fourth year, when almost all the students had hated him for putting his name in the Goblet of Fire (not that he had done it, mind you).  
  
Harry still felt a pang of hurt and anger go through him when he thought of Ron's jealousy and the badges most of the students had worn: "Potter stinks". He knew he shouldn't be affected by this, but he couldn't seem to help it.  
  
It was just that every time when everything seemed to be so perfect, it would be destroyed by something that wasn't even Harry's fault. The biggest part of him, of course, had died together with Cedric when those horrible two words had left Voldemort's servant's mouth.  
  
Dumbledore seemed to mistake Harry's silence for confusion because he added:  
  
"We've been trying to get your attention for the past two minutes. You startled us when you weren't responding."  
  
Harry blinked again.  
  
"Oh.....I'm sorry. I was merely preoccupied. I'm fine." With that, and an unconvincing smile, he lapsed into silence again.  
  
"I'm afraid there is still one more thing we need to talk about, Harry, before we can leave you to your thoughts." Dumbledore said, a hint of regret in his voice.  
  
Harry suppressed a groan and averted his face. He did NOT want to talk about the Dursleys' treatment of him, it wasn't anyone's business but his own.  
  
"By the expression on your face, I can tell that you know what this is about, Harry," Dumbledore continued firmly. "As much as I hate to inflict this kind of pain onto you, it has to be done. Harry, please tell us about the Dursleys."  
  
Harry bit his lip.  
  
"What do you want to know?" he asked quietly, surprised at his own voice, which was monotone and steady.  
  
Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his temples wearily.  
  
"Tell us how they treated you, Harry..... when did they start to mistreat you, and why?"  
  
Harry frowned.  
  
"As long as I can remember, the Dursleys have always treated me horribly. I- used to sleep in a small broom cupboard under the stairs. I never had any clothes other than Dudley's hand-me-downs. As soon as I could walk properly, they used me as their slave..... They made me do all sorts of chores, everything they could think of. I remember once, when I was seven, my uncle made me climb on to the roof and clean the chimney....."  
  
Harry's frown deepened, remembering the accident.  
  
"I ended up breaking my leg because I fell off the roof. The Dursleys were furious because they had to take me to a doctor's. They said I wasn't worth the money. They always said those things. They said I was worthless, a burden on everyone, that the world would be better off if I had just died together with my parents..... "  
  
He sneered slightly, ignoring the outraged expressions on his listeners' faces.  
  
"Of course, after a few years, I became immune to the verbal assaults. I formed my own world in my thoughts, a world in which anything was possible and everything was perfect. I still had my Mum and Dad, the Dursleys didn't exist. Whenever they launched into one of their tirades, I would block them out and retreat into my world. I read lots of books..... they were the only things the Dursleys would let me have, and only because Dudley didn't like them. The books helped me form my fantasy world and allowed me to slip into it- they were my sanctuary, my refuge when reality- or the Dursleys- became too hard to face.  
  
"It all stopped when I got my first Hogwarts letter..... the Dursleys were afraid someone would come to check on me and gave me Dudley's second bedroom. Of course it was packed with his broken toys before my aunt cleaned it out last year, but still- it was a room."  
  
Harry shrugged.  
  
"And the physical abuse, Harry? When did that start?" Dumbledore prodded lightly.  
  
Harry frowned again.  
  
"It's strange, really. I had almost forgotten about this occurrence about eight years ago- like something was blocking my memory..... but now that you mention it.....  
  
"One day, when I was seven, my aunt and uncle took me and Dudley out to get Dudley some new clothes for his birthday. They didn't want to take me along, of course, but Mrs. Figg was on holiday and they didn't want to leave me in the house by myself. They thought I would blow it up or something.  
  
"Anyway, at the end of the day, the Dursleys went into a shop- the last one, they said- in a small alley and instructed me to wait outside on the street alone. It was already quite late, most of the shops had closed and I remember that there were no other people outside anymore.  
  
"Suddenly, a group of strange people came around the corner. They were heading straight for me. I got scared and tried to get into the shop to the Dursleys, but the doors were too heavy for me and my aunt and uncle were at the very back of the shop and couldn't see me.  
  
"Meanwhile, those people had come very close to me. They were really coming to me, I could see it. I tried to run, but they were quicker and surrounded me...... I was so scared, I wanted to scream for help, but somehow I couldn't get a sound out! They weren't armed, but they were all so big and grinning maliciously..... the leader of the group advanced on me, and I desperately wished to be somewhere else, anywhere else.....  
  
"And suddenly, with a slight 'plop', I found myself inside the shop, right in front of my uncle's nose.  
  
"Looking back, I'd say that I must have apparated away accidentally.  
  
"My uncle, however, was not pleased. The storekeeper fainted and my aunt started to scream hysterically. When we left the shop, the strange people were gone. My uncle didn't say a single word on our way back, even when I tried to explain to him that I could not explain how I had managed to just 'beam' myself into the shop.  
  
"When we were home, he shoved me roughly against the kitchen door and slapped me a few times, berating me for my freakishness and stupidity. My aunt and cousin cheered him on. Then, he threw me into the cupboard and shut me in for the next two days."  
  
Harry was silent for a minute.  
  
"From that day on, he hit me a few times..... it wasn't bad most of the time, unless something big had happened, like, one time, I accidentally apparated on to the school roof, or one time when an especially big order of drills for his business was withdrawn.  
  
"It stopped when I got to Hogwarts, like I said- Vernon was probably afraid I'd turn him into a toad or something if he hurt me- but this summer, his business was going badly and he needed a vent, I suppose. So- that's it."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. For a moment, there was silence in the room. Then Dumbledore asked the very question that Harry was dreading the most. "Harry, why did you never tell anyone?"  
  
Harry averted his gaze and pressed his lips together.  
  
"Harry, please." Dumbledore took Harry's chin into his hand and forced the boy to look into his eyes. Dumbledore's light blue eyes were piercing, as always, and Harry had, yet again, the feeling that the man could look into his very soul. They held a silent staring contest for a few more moments, then Harry had to look away. Dumbledore released his chin, knowing that he had won.  
  
"I had no one to tell." Harry said darkly. "I never had any friends, Dudley made sure of that. I didn't know any trustworthy adults, either. Of course, there was Mrs. Figg, the old lady that would baby-sit me whenever the Dursleys went out and didn't want to take me along, which was most of the time. But I really didn't know her all that well, and she wouldn't have been able to help me anyway, I thought.  
  
"Besides, Uncle Vernon made it clear that should I ever tell anyone about the abuse, I would be terribly, terribly, sorry.  
  
"So I kept silent, like he wanted me to, and made up lies to explain the occasional bruise to my teachers who saw them, became concerned and asked me about them. I became quite good at it over the years. I had fallen down the stairs. My uncle had chopped down a tree and its branches had hit me in the face. My cat (not that I ever had one, though I always wanted one) had scratched me. I had been standing in front of the door right when my uncle opened it and accidentally slammed it into my face. I had tripped over a stool in the dark and crashed into the wall. You get the idea? I don't want to know what my teachers thought of me. It became a habit after a while and sometimes I didn't even notice that I was lying anymore."  
  
"And after you came to Hogwarts?" Snape prompted.  
  
Harry shrugged.  
  
"Uncle Vernon stopped. Why should I have told anyone?"  
  
The three adults stared at him incredulously.  
  
"Why should you have told anyone?" Minerva asked incredulously. "Harry, what your uncle did was wrong! We would never have sent you back to live in such conditions if we had known, protection from Voldemort or not!"  
  
Harry remained silent. Deep down in his heart, he knew that Minerva was right. He should have told her, because she was his head of house, or Dumbledore. But truth to be told, he had been ashamed. Still was. Famous Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, downfall of one of the darkest wizard of all times, couldn't even stand up to his muggle uncle.  
  
There would have been an uproar, and Harry would have been even more in the centre of attention than he had been before. And he had finally had the chance to start a new life at Hogwarts, without the Dursleys there to mess up his life.  
  
And quite frankly, he hadn't wanted anything of his past to destroy that chance, he hadn't wanted people to think that he was weak. Life had already been difficult enough with all those stares he was receiving. He didn't think he would have been able to stand it if those people had pitied him. Harry hated pity. It always made him feel helpless and worse than he had before anybody had said anything.  
  
So Harry had told nobody, and had vowed to himself that nobody would ever find out, and that he wouldn't let his so-called family destroy his chance in the wonderful, fabulous new world that had been opened to him on his eleventh birthday.  
  
Stumbling over his words, Harry tried to explain this to his godmother, headmaster and Potions professor.  
  
When he had finished, there was a long silence in the room. The professors seemed to be mulling over his words in their heads.  
  
Finally, Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"I understand, Harry. I still say you should have told someone, but I can see why you didn't- also, Harry, this is nothing you have to be ashamed of. There was nothing you could have done against your uncle, you were just a child after all, and you still are, no matter how old you may feel. Harry, promise me that you'll never keep anything like that from us ever again. Contrary to what you might believe, we do care about your well-being very much. Please, Harry, promise that you will come to one of us here if there is ever something wrong with you again."  
  
Harry felt touched by the pure concern and sincerity that shone in Dumbledore's eyes, as well as in Snape's and Minerva's. He had never heard his headmaster plead with anyone before- usually, Dumbledore's polite requests were more orders than anything else. So, he made up his mind quickly. "I promise."  
  
Dumbledore smiled at him.  
  
"Very well. And now, I suggest that you go back to sleep for a while, Harry. I will wake you again in three hours, I still have to tell you about something, and tonight there is a meeting of a group of people who would like to meet you, Harry. Sirius and Remus will be here in four hours as well, so you'll have some time to catch up before the meeting. Sleep well, Harry."  
  
Harry nodded, yawned and curled up on his side. He hadn't even realized how exhausted he was from all that talking. What did Dumbledore want to talk to him about? And Sirius and Remus were coming! Harry smiled in anticipation. He could not wait to see his godfather and favourite (ex)professor again. Despite those exiting thoughts, Harry fell asleep quickly, the smile never leaving his face.  
  
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Nice place to end a chapter, don't you think? *ducks flying tomatoes* Alright, alright, I'll continue!  
  
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Harry woke up to a gentle hand shaking his shoulder. Harry sat up slowly, blinking into the light. Someone handed him his glasses and he put them on. The room came into focus, and Harry recognised Dumbledore standing next to his bed. This time, though, there were no other people in the room.  
  
"Harry, I'm sorry for waking you, but Sirius and Remus will be arriving in an hour or so and I still have to talk to you about something."  
  
Harry yawned and blinked sleepily.  
  
"Tha's awrigh", he said, his words slightly slurred, and started to fall asleep again.  
  
"Harry, wait!" came Dumbledore's voice, this time sounding a bit more commanding and also distinctly amused. "You can go back to sleep later if you still wish to do so by then, though I seriously doubt it. Now, Harry, do you have any idea what this is about?"  
  
Harry opened his eyes again, unwillingly, but a bit more awake.  
  
"No, I'm afraid I don't have a clue, Sir." Harry answered honestly.  
  
Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"Well then, I'm going to give you a clue. I'm going to answer a question you asked me a little more than three years ago."  
  
Immediately Harry's head snapped up. Dumbledore chuckled.  
  
"I see that I got your attention. Harry, it's time for you to know why Voldemort wants to kill you."  
  
Harry listened with bated breath. He couldn't believe that Dumbledore would finally tell him what he had wanted to know since his eleventh birthday. Dumbledore, seeing that Harry's attention was all his, continued.  
  
"Harry, what I'm about to tell you will probably come as a shock to you. Please listen to me first, then I will answer any questions that you might have."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Good. Harry, do you remember that I once told you in your third year that Professor Trelawney had only made two true predictions in her life?"  
  
Harry remembered quite well.  
  
"Yes, Professor. But what's that got to do with me?"  
  
Dumbledore raised his hands.  
  
"Everything, Harry, because her first prediction was about you. It happened exactly one year before you were born, Harry, on July 31st, 1979. I was visiting Professor Trelawney in her tower to ask her how things were going, when she suddenly seemed to space out. And then she started to speak in a voice that was far too deep to be her own. Luckily, I recognised the signs of a vision and had a quill and parchment with me to write her prediction down:  
  
'Dark times are over us,  
  
The snake has taken over the world.  
  
Hope is lost in many hearts,  
  
Those who fight became rare.  
  
But not all hope is lost,  
  
A new light will rise,  
  
Son of the flower and the stag,  
  
Born from a line of pride.  
  
Powerful he shall be,  
  
More so than anyone ever before,  
  
The Dark Lord's downfall is near,  
  
At the hands of a mere child.  
  
At great cost the baby shall win,  
  
Losing what is dear to him in the process,  
  
Thus begins the story of the Boy-who-Lived,  
  
Saviour of the world from great evil.  
  
But defeated the Dark Lord shall not be,  
  
And years later he shall return,  
  
Dark times shall take over the world again,  
  
In the hearts of people strike fear.  
  
But the Son of Hope lives,  
  
Destined to defeat the evil snake,  
  
Achieving his powers at the age of fifteen,  
  
In a clearing, lost and alone.  
  
Alone he has been for most of his life,  
  
And alone he shall free the world from evil,  
  
When the Order of Phoenix stands again,  
  
And the final battle is near.'  
  
"Yes, I believe those were her words. For the coming year, I tried in vain to figure out who this son of hope would be. And then, exactly one year later, on July 31st, 1980, you were born.  
  
"I was friends with Lily and James, Harry, even more so when the two of them entered the Order of the Phoenix right after their graduation.  
  
"So, naturally, I visited Lily in the hospital, the day after you were born. When I came, you were awake, though your mother was still sleeping. Miraculously, you didn't make a sound, you just looked up to me with those impossibly green eyes of yours. That's when I noticed that there was something very, very special about you. There was an aura of power all around you that even fully trained wizards don't usually achieve.  
  
"I remembered the prophecy, and it started to make sense. Lily, obviously, was the flower, and James was the stag, for reasons that were not clear to me for many years. That meant that you, my dear boy, were the son of hope the prophecy was talking about.  
  
"When Lily was allowed to leave the hospital three days later, I went to her and James's house and told them about the prophecy and my suspicions regarding you.  
  
"Lily and James, of course, had already noticed that there was something unique about you- you were already using magic at such young age. Even if it was only to summon your toys, it was unmistakably magic. We decided, for your own protection, that we would use a spell to keep most of your powers at bay. They will return to you on your fifteenth birthday, together with the powers the prophecy spoke of.  
  
"Meanwhile, we did our best so that nobody would find out about you or the prophecy. But then, I'm sorry to say, Harry, I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.  
  
"I called in a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix Council and told them about the prophecy, about you being the son of hope, so that they would help to protect you, Lily and James.  
  
"Unfortunately, Wormtail was also part of the Order. He must have told Voldemort, because not a week later we received news from Severus that killing the Potters was now Voldemort's first priority. He had been after them before, of course, not only because James and Lily were two of the best Aurors of the time, but also because it had come to Voldemort's attention that James was the heir of Gryffindor. Voldemort, being the heir of Slytherin, was afraid that James would be a real threat to him, so he decided to..... eliminate the Gryffindor lineage, and with that, you.  
  
"Of course, what Voldemort didn't know, was that Lily wasn't really a muggleborn, either. Both Lily and Petunia were adopted, Petunia is a squib, that is why she hates magic so much, she is bitter. I'm not sure if either of them ever knew this, but like the Potters, the Evans family is one of the oldest wizarding families in existence- and they are direct descendants of both Merlin and Rowena Ravenclaw herself. Making you, my dear boy, the most powerful wizard that has ever lived: You, Harry, are the heir of Merlin, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.  
  
"You know the rest of the story, Harry. One year and almost three months after you were born, Lily and James decided to go under the Fidelius Charm. Wormtail's betrayal ended up being the Death of your parents. You, a mere baby, defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort and became famous all over the wizarding world. You were sent to live with your muggle relatives because of the blood ties you, Petunia and your cousin are sharing. Three weeks ago, Voldemort returned. The prophecy has come true, at least the first and second part of it. Am I correct in assuming that your birthday is in two weeks?"  
  
Harry, still too shocked to do anything else, nodded dumbly.  
  
"You will receive your powers in two weeks, then. It will probably come as a shock, even hurt. I hope that you are prepared."  
  
A long silence filled the room after Dumbledore had stopped talking. Harry's brain tried to process all that he had just heard and failed miserably. It was just too much, too unbelievable!  
  
After a few minutes of silence, Dumbledore spoke again.  
  
"Harry, are you alright?"  
  
Harry shook his head dazedly and blinked to clear away the fog that seemed to penetrate his brain.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," he managed to get out, "It can't be. It can't be me. I'm not powerful, I'm not even all that good here at school, it has to be someone else, you..... you must have made a mistake....." he trailed off, realizing that he was rambling.  
  
"Harry, calm down. I assure you that I have made no mistake. It really is you the prophecy is talking about. And believe it or not, your grades are quite good. I must say, we, the professors that is, were pleasantly surprised when you got such good grades. We thought you would have a lot more trouble with school, after all we took away most of your powers. Trust me, Harry, it's you."  
  
Harry sighed as he looked down on to the bed sheets. Deep down, he knew that Dumbledore was right. But that did not mean that Harry liked the idea of having to defeat Voldemort on his own any better. Shoving that thought aside for a while, Harry realized that there were still a few questions on his mind that he couldn't find the answers to.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, what did that part of the prophecy mean where it said that I would achieve my powers 'in a clearing, lost and alone'? Harry quoted.  
  
Dumbledore sighed.  
  
"That, Harry, is a question I cannot answer, I'm afraid."  
  
"But why not?" protested Harry. "You told me about the prophecy. Don't I have a right to at least know what it means?"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head, smiling slightly.  
  
"Don't get me wrong, Harry. I would answer your question if I knew the answer. But, to be perfectly honest with you, I don't have a clue about what that part of the prophecy means, either. You'll just have to wait and see, I guess."  
  
Harry nodded, slightly embarrassed at his earlier outburst.  
  
"Um, Sir, I have another question." Harry said tentatively.  
  
Dumbledore nodded at him, still smiling, the twinkle in his eyes ever- present.  
  
"Fire away, Harry."  
  
Harry didn't know why he was feeling so hesitant to ask this simple question, but somehow he did.  
  
"Professor, I was wondering, what exactly is the Order of the Phoenix you and the prophecy were talking about?"  
  
"Ah," Dumbledore said, "I was wondering when you'd ask. The Order of the Phoenix, Harry, is a secret group of people fighting against Voldemort. And not just him.  
  
"The Order was founded by none other than Merlin himself, your ancestor. In the time he founded it, which was well over 10000 years ago, there was a very powerful dark witch called Nimue. She was gathering followers all around her, and the people or creatures that did not want to fight, she either killed immediately or tortured until they gave in to her.  
  
"Merlin, while being one of the most powerful wizards of all time, could not fight a whole army on his own. So he started to gather followers as well. Not only wizards or animals, but also muggles. Most living beings had already heard of Nimue's terror and agreed to help Merlin gladly. Merlin tested each follower's loyalty by letting him or her look into his phoenix's eyes. Then he questioned them about their loyalties. No one can lie, Harry, while looking into a phoenix's eyes. And so Merlin's group became known as the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
"Merlin's closest and most powerful allies were in the Order's council, Merlin himself was, of course, the head of it.  
  
"After many years of desperate fighting and huge losses on both sides, the Order of the Phoenix finally managed to defeat Nimue. Her followers were forgiven and the Order stopped meeting after swearing that they would come together once more should there ever be a dark wizard or witch trying to take over the world again.  
  
"Well, of course there were plenty of them. Though it had been such a long time, people remembered the Order of the Phoenix. The Order reunited countless times over the centuries, always with different leaders and warriors, but never breaking the tradition of the Phoenix-initiation- ritual, and never, not even once in the past, have they failed.  
  
"When Voldemort tried to take over the world almost twenty years ago, the Order of the Phoenix stood again. I was the head of the Order, Fawkes was the Phoenix testing people's loyalty.  
  
"Shortly before Voldemort's downfall, the council consisted of Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra and Vektor, and Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Hagrid, Mad-Eye-Moody, Dedalus Diggle, Marlene McKinnon, Emmeline Vance, Benjy Fenwick, Sturgis Podmore, Caradoc Dearborn, Elphias Doge, my brother Aberforth, Dorcas Meadowes, Arthur Weasley, Severus Snape, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, Lily Potter, Frank and Alice Longbottom, Edgar and Jessica Bones and Gidgeon and Fabian Prewett." Dumbledore paused for a while, seemingly lost in memories.  
  
"Many of them, Harry, met their fate. Voldemort targeted every Order of the Phoenix member, and even more so, the Order Council.  
  
"Marlene McKinnon was killed by Deatheaters, together with her whole family. Benjy Fenwick, too was killed..... we found most of his body eventually..... it was not a pretty sight, Harry..... Edgar Bones..... such a great wizard..... yet he, too, was victim to one of Voldemort's Deatheater raids..... Caradoc Dearborn vanished without a trace..... The Prewetts were killed in a Deatheater attack, they fought bravely..... Dorcas Meadowes, the poor dear, she was killed by Voldemort personally..... Your parents..... The Longbottoms, as you know, were tortured to insanity about Voldemort's whereabouts after his downfall....."  
  
Dumbledore trailed off. Harry hardly dared to breathe. All those poor people had died..... all because of Voldemort. Voldemort had killed so many..... and he, Harry, was expected to defeat him? It seemed ridiculous. What could an almost-fifteen year old boy do against the greatest dark wizard of the century? Even more than a century, Harry mused. After all, Trelawney had predicted that Voldemort would rise again, greater and more terrible than ever before. Harry shuddered.  
  
"My apologies," Dumbledore, who had been watching Harry, said quietly. "I should not have burdened you with the details. Forgive me, Harry. Let us return to the task at hand."  
  
The twinkle in his eyes, which had dulled briefly during his description of the Order members' deaths, returned a little.  
  
"When you, Harry, told me about Voldemort's return three weeks ago, I immediately took action. The remaining people of the Order Council of fourteen years ago in addition to a few others agreed to join the Order again. The council now consists of Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, Vektor and Snape, and Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Hagrid, Mad- Eye-Moody, Arthur Weasley and his two oldest sons, Bill and Charlie, Dedalus Diggle, who is currently on recruiting duty down in Kent, Emmeline Vance- she, too, is on a mission- Sturgis Podmore, Elphias Doge, my brother Aberforth- all of whom are contacting foreign ministries as we speak- and two Aurors Arthur has managed to convince, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks.  
  
"At the moment we are gathering followers all over the world, people willing to fight against evil, stand up to Voldemort. Currently we count 87 members and more are joining every day, though it is going slowly, too slowly......  
  
"Tonight, there will be an Order of the Phoenix Council meeting I would like for you to attend. Do you feel up to it, Harry?"  
  
Harry nodded eagerly, he wanted to know more about this group his parents had once been part of. Dumbledore, seeing Harry's enthusiasm, smiled.  
  
"Good then. Do you have any questions, Harry?"  
  
Harry, already starting to shake his head, stopped himself just in time.  
  
"Actually, Professor, yes, I have. You remember how you told me that it is impossible to lie while looking into a phoenix's eyes, and that each member of the Order was questioned about his or her loyalties under these circumstances?"  
  
At Dumbledore's nod, Harry continued.  
  
"Then why, Professor, did Peter Pettigrew ever become part of the Order?"  
  
Dumbledore looked down at his hands and sighed.  
  
"Harry," he said very quietly, "What you must understand is that Peter Pettigrew was not always bad. When the Marauders and Lily entered the Order right after their graduation, he was as faithful to the light side as you and me. That's why he passed the Phoenix's test with flying colours. I don't know what made him go over to the dark side, Harry, and I probably won't ever know. I'm sorry to say that at that time we hadn't thought of the possibility of someone in the Order Council leaking information to Voldemort.  
  
"We knew that there had to be a spy in the Order, of course, because Voldemort always seemed to know about our defence plans before we took action. We tested the warriors' loyalty, but all of them were faithful. Not once did we think of testing the Council as well. It was another big mistake we made, but nothing can change the past, and you shouldn't dwell on it either, Harry. Heaven above, if I tried to list all 'what ifs' in my life, I'd probably die before I was halfway through!"  
  
Harry smiled slightly. It was good to hear Dumbledore joke, that always made Harry feel like there was still hope, even when something had looked like a lost cause before.  
  
Then Dumbledore got serious again. He laid a warm hand on Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Harry, I'm very sorry for any past mistakes that have caused you pain. Not only your parents' death, but also leaving you with the Dursleys. I should have checked on them before I ever left you at their house, I should have sent someone to check up on you every once in a while. It never occurred to me that your relatives might be treating you as anything but their loved nephew. I am really sorry about that, Harry, and I want you to know that if you ever need anything, or even just someone to talk to, I'll always be there for you, just like your godparents, Remus or even Professor Snape."  
  
Suddenly there was a knock on the door, which made both Dumbledore and Harry look up, and which saved Harry from answering, for which he was eternally grateful.  
  
"You can come in!" Dumbledore called.  
  
The door opened, and in stepped the two people Harry had wanted to see more than anyone else. His face quickly broke into a large smile, as he cried:  
  
"Sirius! Professor Lupin!"  
  
The two men came over to the bed quickly, and Sirius immediately hugged Harry.  
  
"Harry! Minerva told us what happened. Are you alright?" Sirius released Harry, and was shoved aside by one certain ex-Defence against the Dark Arts- Professor.  
  
"Harry!" Remus said in his usual jovial and cheerful manner, as he, too, grabbed Harry into a hug, surprising him. "It is good to see you again!"  
  
Harry grinned even more broadly.  
  
"You too, professor. You too!"  
  
Remus shook his head, still smiling.  
  
"Harry I'm not your professor anymore.....yet. Please call me Remus."  
  
Harry's eyes widened.  
  
"Yet? Does that mean that you're coming back to teach Defence?"  
  
Remus nodded. Harry beamed at him.  
  
"That's wonderful! Oh, Ron and Hermione are going to be so happy to hear....!" Remus laughed, looking embarrassed.  
  
"You may tell Ron and Hermione, but no one else, Harry. We can't spoil the surprise for all of the students!"  
  
Harry looked at him questioningly.  
  
"All of the students? Who knows about it?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
Remus looked thoughtful for a moment. "Hmm, other than you, Hermione, Ron and probably the rest of the Weasleys, and the other teachers of course.....only Rhia does."  
  
Harry frowned. He was quite sure that he didn't know whom Remus was talking about.  
  
"Rhia? Who's that? I'm quite sure that I've never met anyone with that name before." he said, fixing his (extremely curious) gaze on Remus. Remus smiled softly.  
  
"Rhianna is my daughter, Harry."  
  
Harry blinked. That was certainly unexpected.  
  
"I didn't know you had a daughter. How old is she?"  
  
Remus smiled again.  
  
"She's almost fifteen, Harry, just like you. She will be transferring to Hogwarts this year."  
  
Something in Remus's tone told Harry not to ask further questions on the subject, so he simply said:  
  
"I'm looking forward to meeting her."  
  
After that, the three of them (Dumbledore had left to prepare for the meeting) chatted about various things. Harry was glad that neither Sirius nor Remus brought up the subject of the Dursleys again, he really didn't want to talk about it another time so soon.  
  
But throughout the whole time Harry couldn't help thinking about the mysterious Rhianna Lupin. There was something strange about Lupin's daughter, even though he had never even met her. She was his age, so why hadn't she gone to Hogwarts before? And another thought struck him. Though he wasn't completely sure, he could have sworn that he had heard Hermione say once that lycanthropy was heritable. So was Rhianna Lupin a werewolf? He would have to look it up in the library.  
  
Suddenly, Harry was jolted out of his thoughts by Remus crying:  
  
"Good lord! Look at the time! Harry, go take a shower, the bathroom's just down the hall, you'll find some clothes on a stool beside the tub, I told the house-elves to put them there earlier. Hurry, or we are going to be late for the meeting!"  
  
Harry nodded and got up quickly. Dashing down the hall and reaching the bathroom in no time he concentrated solely on showering and dressing as quickly as possible, all thoughts of Rhianna Lupin temporarily erased from his mind.  
  
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A/N: Well! What do you think? This was a long chapter, my longest yet by far! *collapses from exhaustion*  
  
Rhianna Lupin is mine, though she won't play an important oar in this story for another few chapters. Don't worry, you'll like her! And don't worry, Harry isn't going to stay miserable for too long. He's just still depressed about the TriWizard Tournament!  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter!  
  
Until next time,  
  
Felinity ^_^ 


	5. Chapter Five: The Order of the Phoenix

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers  
  
Disclaimer: Everything you recognise still belongs to JK Rowling!!!  
  
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Chapter 5  
  
The Order of the Phoenix  
  
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After his quick shower Harry quickly put on the clothes that had been provided for him. Obviously, the house elves thought that the uniform code didn't apply during the summer holidays, so Harry was now wearing a pair of blue jeans and a plain black T-Shirt.  
  
Brushing his still damp black hair behind his ears quickly (over the past year and summer it had grown to just beyond his ears, which made it much more tameable), Harry grabbed his glasses and hurried back to the infirmary. Sirius and Remus smiled upon seeing him and together the three of them left for Dumbledore's office, though not after promising Madam Pomfrey that Harry would stop by for a last check-up the next morning.  
  
Soon they were standing in front of the stone gargoyle which was guarding Dumbledore's office as always. Remus gave the password ("Milky Way!"), it jumped aside and let them step on to the moving staircase behind.  
  
The heavy oak door at the top of the stairs was open and they could hear the chattering of many voices from inside the room. Harry entered Dumbledore's office after Sirius and Remus. The first thing he noticed was that the room had been enlarged. There was a long table in the centre of the room, only three seats (obviously theirs) were still vacant.  
  
The second thing he noticed was that everyone in the room had stopped talking and was looking at him. Harry groaned inwardly and quickly slipped into his seat between Remus and Professor Snape. Both of them gave him an encouraging smile (though it was more a smirk in Snape's case), knowing fully well how much Harry hated being the centre of attention. Fortunately, Dumbledore took pity on Harry and cleared his throat loudly, making almost every person in the room jump and return to their previous conversations.  
  
Harry looked around the room and noticed that he knew most of the people sitting around the table. There were Professors McGonagall (who gave him a small smile), Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, Vektor, Snape and Dumbledore, and Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Hagrid (who beamed at him), Mad-Eye-Moody (the real one), Arthur Weasley and his two oldest sons, Bill and Charlie (all three of whom nodded at him in greeting).  
  
There were, however, two other people in the room. One of them, a short woman with grey hair and a grouchy expression on her face, sat right next to Professor Snape. With some amount of shock Harry recognised the old lady who had used to baby-sit him years before at the Dursleys'.  
  
"Mrs. Figg?" he asked in complete disbelief.  
  
The woman turned to him and smiled.  
  
"Hello, Harry. It is good to see you."  
  
Harry gaped at her.  
  
"But.....what are you doing here?"  
  
Mrs. Figg tutted impatiently.  
  
"Honestly, boy, I thought you were more intelligent than that- obviously, I am part of the Order Council. I am a squib."  
  
Harry gaped at her wordlessly.  
  
"Shut your mouth," Mrs. Figg told him briskly, "You're looking stupid."  
  
Harry's jaws clicked shut audibly, though he was still goggling at his one- time babysitter.  
  
"You're a good actor, boy," Mrs. Figg remarked, eyeing him critically. "Dumbledore told me. Never suspected a thing."  
  
Harry looked down at the table quickly, avoiding her piercing stare and scowling to himself defiantly.  
  
"Aren't there more people in the Council than this?" he asked Remus to distract himself.  
  
Remus nodded.  
  
"Yes, Emmeline Vance, Elphias Doge, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks are currently on missions. I am not quite sure about Dumbledore's brother Aberforth, I suspect that he is as well....."  
  
A warm hand on his shoulder redirected Harry's thoughts to the meeting. Dumbledore had stepped up behind him and everyone had quieted down and was looking at the headmaster and Harry expectantly.  
  
"Good evening, everybody. I have no doubt that you all know our young Mr. Potter here. Harry, this" (he pointed at the only person in the room whom Harry didn't know, a man with dark blond hair and brown eyes that looked to be in his mid-thirties like Sirius, Remus and Professor Snape, though decidedly more ragged) "is Mundungus Fletcher. He was friends with your parents and the rest of the Marauders."  
  
Harry smiled at the man who grinned at him lopsidedly in return. Harry decided he liked him immediately, despite his unkempt appearance.  
  
"Harry, I have already told you about the foundation and history of the Order of the Phoenix, what I have yet to explain to you however is why you are here."  
  
Dumbledore paused for a moment and went back around the table to his seat. After he had sat down, he leaned forward slightly and looked at Harry intently.  
  
"Harry, have you had any dreams about Voldemort" (Harry was surprised to see that none of the people in the room flinched at the name) "lately?" Harry stared at Dumbledore. Surely he could not mean..... Could he know about Harry's dream about Snape being discovered a spy? Had that really happened? Should he tell them? If it had never happened, he would be making a fool of himself.....  
  
Dumbledore seemed to read some of Harry's thoughts, because he prodded,  
  
"One involving Professor Snape, Harry."  
  
Harry frowned. So the dream had really happened? Feeling all eyes on him, Harry started to squirm slightly uncomfortably and licked his lips nervously, eyes darting from one face to another.  
  
"Actually, yes, I had one dream about Voldemort involving Professor Snape. I.....I wasn't sure if it had been real."  
  
Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"Please tell us about the dream, Harry."  
  
Harry nodded nervously and tried to remember the dream as clearly as possible. It was hard, because like any of his visions about Voldemort, the dream had started to slip away like water in his hand soon after he had woken up that day.  
  
"It was-"Harry stopped, frowned, and started again. "It was after I'd fallen asleep two nights ago. I was dreaming about Quidditch, but then I suddenly found myself on the back of a phoenix instead of my broom. The phoenix soared over a huge, dark forest with lots of dark magical beasts in it.  
  
"After a while, I saw a castle looming in the distance. It was huge, almost as big as Hogwarts, but it was completely and utterly black. There were no sounds in the air, no owls hooting or anything, even the wind had stopped blowing when we came closer to the castle. It wasn't really a castle, more of a fortress, and it radiated pure misery and evil. The phoenix swooped through a window and dropped me onto the stone floor behind a gigantic pillar, then it simply vanished."  
  
Harry drew a deep breath, frowning in remembrance.  
  
"The room I had arrived in seemed to be some kind of throne room. Voldemort was there, sitting on a gigantic chair in the front of the room, and in front of him there were Deatheaters. He just sat there for a while, looking at them. It was strange because I could hear his thoughts. Nothing important, though, he was just on about the incompetence of some of his Deatheaters, mainly Pettigrew."  
  
Harry spat out the name like a curse.  
  
"Then he started to walk along the line of Deatheaters, looking each in the face for a while before stopping at the very end. Oh yeah, he tortured Pettigrew for a bit because the rat wouldn't stop stuttering. Then, he started a 'touching' speech about a traitor he had discovered and told the Deatheater to take off his mask."  
  
Harry glanced quickly at his potions professor, who nodded at him.  
  
"Go on, boy. Obviously, that Deatheater was me."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Well, Voldemort hit you with the Cruciatus curse. I was horrified at first and didn't know what to do. I can never do anything in those dreams, I always have to watch from the sidelines, I have to watch Voldemort torture muggles and wizards just for the fun of it but I can never interfere, never help them..... and then, I suddenly got really angry because I was feeling so helpless. I hate feeling helpless. So, without further thinking, I launched myself out of the shadows and right in front of the curse."  
  
Harry grimaced as he remembered the horrendous pain he had felt.  
  
"I don't really know what possessed me at that moment, but somehow I knew what I had to do. I managed to turn around..... that's when Professor Snape told me that I was glowing. I hadn't even noticed before, but there was blue, white and gold light all around me. I knew that I had to find a way to get Professor Snape out of there quickly..... and then, I suddenly found myself pointing my hand at him and shouting 'Mitto Severus Snape ad Hogwarts!' Don't ask me where that came from, it just seemed like the right thing to do. And, well, the spell seemed to work, I heard Voldemort scream in rage and then I blacked out from the pain."  
  
Harry finished recounting his dream and looked at Snape uncertainly.  
  
"So, this really did happen?"  
  
Snape nodded and opened his mouth to say something but at that moment Dumbledore interrupted.  
  
"Very well, Harry. I suppose I don't have to tell you that you probably saved Severus's life, and I thank you for that. As for the glow you and Professor Snape mentioned, my guess is that in your rage, managed to gain some of the powers that should have been blocked until your fifteenth birthday. Gold for Gryffindor, white for Merlin, blue for Ravenclaw.....  
  
"It seems to me that although your powers are still sealed off, you can already have access to them in times of desperate need. However, Harry, with Professor Snape exposed as our spy, we are currently facing a big predicament as we do not have a source in Voldemort's inner circle anymore to inform us of his plans in advance. This is a disaster for both the magical and the muggle world..... And this is where you come in, Harry."  
  
"Me?" Harry asked in surprise.  
  
"Yes, you, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore repeated, his eyes twinkling overtime. "Your scar and with it your link to Voldemort is at the moment the only way for us to receive intelligence on Voldemort and his plans. It is crucial, Harry, that we know about any Voldemort-related dreams you may have from now on, however unimportant they may seem to you. And this is why I want you, Harry, to join the Order of the Phoenix."  
  
Harry gasped and stared at his headmaster. The other people in the room were silent, confirming Harry's suspicions that they had known about this before. Harry didn't like the fact that, yet again, he seemed to be the last person to know about a decision that would probably affect his entire life. He knew he should probably feel honoured that they wanted him to be part of the Order, but couldn't help thinking that he wouldn't be of much use and that he couldn't make those dreams come in order to give the Council information.  
  
Dumbledore, undoubtedly, knew this as well, so what was the point in him joining the Order? Besides, Harry knew that he would be the centre of attention even more than before and he would probably have to lie to his friends..... or worse yet, if Ron found out he would maybe be jealous again and would refuse to talk to Harry for half of the school year. And if that weren't enough problems already, he wasn't sure if he liked the responsibility and added pressure that came from holding the position of an (unwilling) spy for the Order.  
  
"You want me to join the Order just because of the dreams I have about Voldemort? I could just as well tell you about them without being in the Order. You do realize that I can't influence at which time I have those dreams, Professor, don't you? And I can't even remember them most of the time after I wake up. "  
  
Dumbledore nodded calmly.  
  
"Precisely, Harry. Though you share this connection with Voldemort, you can't give us all the information you saw in your dreams because you are starting to forget about them as soon as you stop dreaming.  
  
"One thing about the Order Council you must know, Harry, is that we all have a mental connection. It's a bit like telepathy, only that we can't read each other's thoughts permanently. But we can send messages or images through this bond, to specific members, Council or not, or to everyone in the council, or in the Order.  
  
"If you were part of the Order Council, Harry, you would be enclosed in this mental bond. I could put a charm on you so that every time you dream of a specific thing, in this case, Voldemort, your dream would be sent to all of us here. We would make sure that you will only send it to the Council. This way, even if you were to forget about the dream, all of us here would remember it. Do you understand?"  
  
Harry nodded in affirmative. This sounded like a good plan to him, but there was still one more thing that was bothering him. He had never told anyone, but whenever he had any visions about Voldemort his scar hurt as terribly as if someone was hitting him with the Cruciatus Curse. He didn't want people to worry about him or to suffer from his, Harry's, pain.  
  
"Professor, what about my scar? You know that it hurts whenever I have those dreams....."  
  
Dumbledore seemed to understand where Harry was going because he held up his hand.  
  
"Don't worry, my boy. Though we will see your dreams, we won't be able to hear your thoughts or feel anything that you feel, which includes the pain of your scar, unless your emotions are extraordinarily strong. In that case we will probably feel a faint echo of whatever it is that you are feeling."  
  
This didn't reassure Harry in the slightest, but he nodded anyway, not wanting to give himself away. Dumbledore, seeing that Harry was still hesitating, decided to elaborate further.  
  
"And if that is not enough to convince you, Harry, there is also the fact that in merely two weeks, you will be more powerful than most of us here put together."  
  
Harry frowned. He didn't like to be reminded of the prophecy, it always made him realize that one of his greatest wishes, along with the wish of getting to know his parents, would never be fulfilled: The wish to be just a normal, almost-fifteen-year-old teenager, just Harry Potter, not The-Boy- Who-Lived.  
  
But he could see Dumbledore's point and relented.  
  
"Alright. If this is what you all want, I'm going to join the Order of the Phoenix."  
  
Immediately, smiles broke out on all faces (well, not Mad-Eye-Moody's, but even he looked less intimidating than usually). It seemed that they had wanted him to join more than they had let on. Dumbledore, too, looked very pleased.  
  
"Splendid! Let us prepare everything for the initiation ceremony."  
  
'Initiation ceremony? Huh?' Harry suddenly had a bad feeling about the whole thing.  
  
Dumbledore clapped his hands together, and immediately the table vanished and the chairs arranged themselves in a circle around Harry's chair. Everyone jumped up in surprise, and all chairs vanished into thin air at once. Dumbledore just smiled when everyone turned to look at him disdainfully and joined his fellow Order members.  
  
The Council stood in a perfect circle around Harry, which made him feel extremely self-conscious. Suddenly it occurred to Harry that he had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do or say. In a mild state of panic he turned to Dumbledore, who seemed to be reading his mind yet again because he smiled at Harry reassuringly.  
  
"Relax, Harry. You will know what to do when the time has come. It is part of the ceremony that the new member is unaware of what will happen during the initiation. Do not worry, though, my boy, you will be just fine."  
  
Harry couldn't help but notice that Dumbledore looked unusually solemn when he said this last sentence and that he, along with every other Council member (even Sirius, Minerva, Remus and Professor Snape), was not meeting his eyes. Harry's stomach started to fill with dread, and the only thing his mind seemed to be able to come up with was 'What have I gotten myself into this time?'.  
  
Before he had time to do or say anything else, all Order members pointed their wands at him. They started to murmur a slow, quiet chant that Harry could not understand, and then a beam of light flew out of each of their wands and connected with him. Harry felt a strange warmth running through him, soothing him. Then the golden threads of light split up and connected with the other members, until every person in the room was connected via light with Harry and everyone else.  
  
Then, a beautiful, unearthly song started to fill the air all around Harry, and Fawkes flew in through the window, landing on the golden net right in front of Harry. The Council stopped chanting and were looking at Harry and Fawkes expectantly. The phoenix song died away. Then Dumbledore cleared his throat and stepped forward, never breaking the golden threads of light.  
  
"Harry James Potter, do you want to join the Order of the Phoenix?"  
  
Harry's gaze was suddenly drawn to Fawkes and he looked into the bird's beautiful, black eyes.  
  
"Yes, I do." Harry remembered what Dumbledore had told him about the initiation ceremony.  
  
'No one, Harry, can lie while looking into a phoenix's eyes.....'  
  
"Do you promise to be faithful to the Order and to never join the dark side?"  
  
Harry was still looking into Fawkes's eyes.  
  
"Yes, I promise."  
  
"Would you give your life in order to protect your fellow Order members if they were in mortal peril?"  
  
Harry felt a jolt of surprise and shock race through him at that question. What did they expect of him? That he go on missions with the rest of him and fight battles against Voldemort? He had only just completed his fourth year!  
  
Nevertheless, he answered, knowing that it was the truth.  
  
"Yes, I would."  
  
Fawkes thrilled a high note, then he flew up and out of the window again. Harry fixed his gaze back on the headmaster.  
  
Dumbledore stepped back into the circle and the beams of light brightened until they were almost blinding in their intensity.  
  
"Harry James Potter, you have fulfilled the laws of the Order of the Phoenix and are now officially a member. In order for you to become a part of the Order Council, you must completely trust every Council member. In order for you to trust us and for us to trust you, we will have to view each other's best and worst memories."  
  
Harry's panic suddenly returned full force. No! They could not make him do that! Harry threw himself against the invisible bonds that kept him in his place desperately, but if anything they seemed to tighten around him. Harry struggled wildly for a few moments, then the pressure on his chest became so heavy that he almost started to choke. Harry, realizing that there was no way out and that he would have to relive all those horrible memories, gave up completely and lowered his gaze. The bonds loosened and he could at least breathe freely again.  
  
Then, the thread connecting him to Dumbledore started to glow red and pulse slightly, reminding him eerily of the light that had connected his and Voldemort's wands at the graveyard after the third task, and images he had never seen before started to display themselves in his mind's eye.  
  
There was Dumbledore, being made headmaster of Hogwarts, and then Dumbledore, celebrating his defeat of Grindelwald. Obviously those were his best memories. After that the thread started to turn black, and Harry could see Dumbledore getting the news of his (Harry's) parents death. This surprised Harry for a moment, but then he berated himself for being so stupid. He had known that Dumbledore had been friends with his parents after all.  
  
So the circle continued, Harry seeing the best and the worst memories of everyone . He saw Sirius being made godfather of Harry (which surprised him again) and discovering his best friends' dead bodies. Then he watched as the scene with Pettigrew displayed itself and Sirius got thrown into Azkaban.  
  
He saw Remus making friends with Sirius, his father and Pettigrew, and then saw him gettng bitten by a werewolf at the age of four.  
  
He saw Arabella Figg laughing with her friends, none of whom Harry recognised, then saw her in a battle against Voldemort with one of her friends from before, and her friend was being killed by a Deatheater.  
  
He saw Mundungus Fletcher marrying a beautiful young woman, then saw Mundungus reading a newspaper article that said that someone called Emeline Fletcher (probably the woman from before) was missing.  
  
He saw Moody imprisoning an (obviously famous) Deatheater couple and then saw him being trapped in Crouch's trunk the year before.  
  
He saw Hagrid getting accepted at Hogwarts, and then saw him receiving the notice of his father's death and being expelled from the school, then he witnessed the scene from more than two years ago in Hagrid's hut again, when they had taken him away to Azkaban.  
  
He saw Arthur Weasley marrying Molly and meeting each of his kids for the first time (which meant, seven times basically the same memory) and then saw him being thrown into Azkaban for two weeks because of some plot of Lucius Malfoy's.  
  
He saw Bill being made head boy and then saw him being hit by some particularly nasty hexes in Egypt.  
  
He saw Charlie working with his dragons in Romania and being made Quidditch team captain at Hogwarts and receiving an offer of the English National Quidditch Team, and then saw him getting nastily burnt by a Hungarian Horntail.  
  
He saw Professor Vektor being made Professor at Hogwarts and then saw him running into a burning house (probably his own) as a child, trying in vain to safe what Harry assumed was his little sister from the fire.  
  
He saw Professor Sinistra looking at the stars, then getting the news of her uncle's death as a student.  
  
He saw Professor Sprout discovering an (until then) unknown plant, and then seeing Cedric's dead body on the ground.  
  
He saw Professor Flitwick teaching his charms classes, and then he saw him drinking a de-growing potion as a child. Harry supposed that explained a lot.  
  
He saw Minerva being made godmother of Harry (which surprised him again) and then saw her getting the news of Harry's parents' deaths and losing the battle of Harry's custody.  
  
And finally he saw Severus getting a second chance from Dumbledore, then saw him joining the Deatheaters and Voldemort.  
  
Harry had watched those memories with fascination. He felt pity and amazement for most of the Council and was still struggling with all those foreign memories. Harry was snapped out of his daze when suddenly all the golden threads of light started to glow red. Harry felt uncomfortable, like a giant hand was sifting through his memories. Then, a memory of his own displayed itself in front of his mind's eye, and Harry knew that the other people in the room could see it as well.  
  
It was a memory of what had happened almost four years ago, when Hagrid had come and told Harry about his being a wizard, and another memory of the first train ride when he had met Ron and Hermione. He watched himself and Ron and Hermione fight the Mountain Troll, then he saw Gryffindor winning the house cup in his first, second and third year, and the Quidditch cup in third year. And finally Harry watched himself discovering that his godfather was innocent and listened to Minerva telling him that she was his godmother again.  
  
Harry realized that there were a lot more memories from him than from any of the others, but he supposed that it was natural because it was his initiation ceremony.  
  
But then Harry was again jolted out of his thoughts by the threads of light that were starting to glow a black colour. Harry closed his eyes as he felt panic close in on him again. He didn't want to relive his worst memories, he didn't even want to think about them, and he most definitely didn't want anyone else to see them!  
  
It started on that fateful Halloween night almost fourteen years before, Harry watched his parents be killed by Voldemort, those horrible memories that had been haunting his nightmares for years were all dragged to the surface.  
  
The next memories were all mostly the same: Dudley shunning Harry for something Harry hadn't even done, or Harry doing magic accidentally, and then Harry being punished for it, everything Harry had tried so hard to hide from everybody.  
  
It started with the first slaps Harry had received at the age of seven and stopped with the past two weeks. Then came the thing Harry had been dreading the most:  
  
The third task of the TriWizard Tournament. Harry watched himself fighting the skrewt, hanging upside down in the strange golden mist, saving Cedric from Krum, answering the Sphinx's riddle.  
  
Then he listened to himself and Cedric arguing over the cup, and then watched as they were both whisked away by the portkey.  
  
Though Harry was not able to move, he felt his desperation and urgency to interfere mount with every second. He watched as Pettigrew killed Cedric and screamed inside at the injustice of it. Then he saw Voldemort rise again, saw himself being hit by the Cruciatus curse, duelling with Voldemort..... and then the Priori Incantatem, Cedric's echo, his parents' echoes.  
  
After Harry had touched the portkey again, the scene faded away and Harry knew that the ceremony was over. He didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to know how they were looking at him, he didn't even care anymore. All he could feel at the moment was guilt, anger, bitterness and self-loathing.  
  
He could hear the Council members gasp, and knew that they had probably felt his emotions through the lingering connection.  
  
The threads of light were getting thinner and thinner and finally faded away completely. The strange warmth that had flooded Harry the instant the light had connected with him vanished as well, leaving Harry feeling cold and empty inside.  
  
Now that the connection had been broken, the invisible bonds that had held Harry in place had apparently vanished as well and Harry just allowed himself to slump to the floor, feeling exhausted and drained.  
  
He could hear footsteps rushing towards him and himself being turned over by a gentle hand. It reminded him so much of last year when he had come back with the portkey and Cedric's body that Harry felt shivers running up and down his spine.  
  
"Harry!" someone called. Harry recognised the worried voice of his godfather. Realizing that he couldn't very well lie there forever Harry sighed and reluctantly opened his eyes. He could see Sirius, Remus, Minerva, Dumbledore, Snape and Arthur Weasley all bending over him, looks of concern on their faces.  
  
When they saw that Harry had opened his eyes they all breathed a sigh of relief and stepped back a little, giving Harry space to stand, which he did on very shaky legs. Harry didn't know what to say, he really didn't know. And neither, it seemed, did the other members. After a few moments of awkward silence, Dumbledore cleared his throat.  
  
"Right. Let's call this meeting to an end. Next meeting will be in a week, goodnight everybody."  
  
Slowly, the Council started to leave Dumbledore's office, all of them muttering 'goodbyes' to each other. Arthur Weasley was the last to leave, claiming that he had to go home or Molly would kill him.  
  
In the end, only Harry, Sirius, Remus, Minerva, Snape and Dumbledore remained. Dumbledore waved his wand and his office returned to its normal size. Then, with another flick of the wand, a sofa and three armchairs appeared, all facing a small table in the middle. Harry looked at his headmaster quizzically. Dumbledore saw his questioning gaze and said firmly,  
  
"I believe the six of us should have a talk, Harry."  
  
Harry squashed his annoyance. He knew that the headmaster meant well, and so did the others in the room.  
  
They all sat down, Harry on the sofa between Sirius and Remus, and Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall in the armchairs.  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence. Harry fiddled with his hands nervously, not quite knowing what to expect.  
  
Then Dumbledore spoke.  
  
"Harry, about that last memory of yours. The graveyard."  
  
Harry scowled and looked away. Then he felt a firm hand under his chin, forcing him to look up and Remus in the eyes.  
  
"Harry," Remus said, "You must stop beating yourself up over it. Cedric's death and Voldemort's return were not your fault. You can ask anyone who has been in the room and they will tell you the same. There was nothing you could have done!"  
  
Harry squirmed. Technically, he knew that. He had gone over the events in his head countless times and looked for anything he could have done differently..... but other than being egoistical and taking the cup alone, nothing had come to him. He knew that he shouldn't feel guilty for being noble, but he couldn't help it.  
  
"Potter?" Snape prompted.  
  
Harry met their eyes full-on.  
  
"I know there is nothing I could have done."  
  
Sirius frowned.  
  
"Then why, Harry, do you still feel guilty about Cedric's death?"  
  
Harry turned to look at Sirius. And suddenly it occurred to him that Sirius was in a similar situation.  
  
"Sirius," he said, "Do you still feel guilty about my parents' death?"  
  
Sirius looked uncomfortable.  
  
"Harry, that's completely beside the point, now. We're talking about you, not me."  
  
"Do you?" Harry pressed.  
  
"Harry, I really don't think....."  
  
"But do you?" Harry interrupted again.  
  
"YES! For heaven's sake, yes! I feel guilty about Lily and James' deaths even after almost fourteen years! I know that there is no way to change the past, but I can't help feeling responsible."  
  
"And so you're making my point for me, Sirius." Harry said quietly.  
  
"Your point?" Sirius asked confused. "What point?"  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
"Don't you see how similar our situations are, Sirius? You persuaded my parents to change secret keepers because you thought it would be best for everyone. What you couldn't have known was that Pettigrew was the spy. And so he betrayed my parents to Voldemort, who killed them. You made a small mistake that isn't even really a mistake because you couldn't possibly have known what would happen. You thought it was for the best. Yet this little mistake proved to be fatal. So you know that there was nothing you could have done, does that make you feel any less guilty?"  
  
Sirius stared at Harry.  
  
"No." he admitted eventually..  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Exactly. I persuaded Cedric to take the cup with me because I thought it would be best for everyone. What I couldn't possibly have known was that the cup was a portkey. And so he took Cedric and me to Voldemort, who made Pettigrew kill Cedric. I made a small mistake which wasn't even really a mistake because I couldn't have known what would happen. I thought it was for the best. Yet this little mistake proved to be fatal. So I know that there was nothing I could have done, does that make me feel any less guilty?"  
  
Silence filled the room. Everyone stared at Harry and he knew that they could see what he was getting at.  
  
"You see?" Harry said quietly. "Sirius, my parents' death wasn't your fault. I'm sure that countless people have told you that. You know that as well as I do, as we all do. Yet you can't help feeling guilty. I know that Cedric's death wasn't my fault, either. But this doesn't mean that I don't feel guilty, so stop being such a hypocrite."  
  
Harry looked down on his shoes. What he wanted to do more than anything was to curl up in his bed and forget all about this miserable day. So much had happened in one single day, he could hardly believe it.  
  
He had found out that Professor McGonagall, Transfigurations Professor, Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was in fact his godmother, he had made peace with Snape, he had found out why Voldemort wanted to kill him and that he was destined to defeat the evil bastard, he had learnt about the Order of the Phoenix, not to mention that he had become part of the Order Council and had just had to relive his worst memories in front of 16 other people, most of whom he only knew fleetingly.  
  
He wanted to sleep.  
  
His thoughts must have been showing on his face because he heard Dumbledore say,  
  
"I think that is enough for today. Minerva, please show Harry to his new room. Sirius, Remus, please follow me. Severus, I trust that you will be fine?"  
  
Severus nodded and with a last glance at Harry he left the room quickly.  
Minerva hauled him to his feet and together the two of them left the office, muttering a quick 'goodnight' to everybody.  
  
Silently, they descended the moving staircase and stepped out behind the stone gargoyle. Harry followed Minerva to a part of the castle where he had never been before.  
  
"This is the teachers' wing," Minerva explained. "You will be staying here for the holidays and so will Rhianna Lupin once she arrives."  
  
Harry looked up immediately. He had almost forgotten about Lupin's daughter.  
  
"When will she arrive?" he asked curiously.  
  
"Around the time of your birthday, I believe..... which means, in approximately two weeks."  
  
They had stopped at a portrait of a young man with black hair and impossibly green eyes.  
  
"Who's that?" Harry asked, shocked by the resemblance between himself and the portrait.  
  
"That is Merlin, Harry. I believe that he is sixteen in the picture. Obviously, this is where you get your eyes from."  
  
She gave Harry an uncharacteristic half-smile.  
  
Suddenly the portrait stirred.  
  
"Why, hello there, Minerva! And who might you be?"  
  
Harry grinned at his ancestor, deciding that he liked him.  
  
"I'm Harry. Nice to meet you!"  
  
Minerva interrupted.  
  
"Harry, this is your room. The password is 'Elven Clearing'."  
  
The portrait swung open reluctantly, as if wanting to talk to Harry longer, and Harry climbed through the portrait hole behind his godmother.  
  
As soon as he had entered the room, his jaw dropped. The room (his room!) was huge. The ceiling was charmed like the ceiling in the great hall, it showed the sky outside. The wall opposite the entrance was practically one huge window, though it was divided into several sections. Every other section could be opened.  
  
On the left wall, there was a huge four-poster bed that looked as though it was a giant tree, the bed posts were beautiful tree trunks and the curtains and canopy were made of real leaves. A soft breeze rustled the leaves from time to time, making it seem as though the bed was alive- which, Harry thought, it probably was. His trunk stood at the end of the bed. All the wood in the room was a nice, light colour, probably alder or something like that. There was a bedside table, on which Harry's wand lay, and a table with two chairs.  
  
On the wall below the windows there was a desk with several quills, rolls of parchment and bottles of ink. On the right wall there were a few book shelves and a wardrobe. The floor was covered in real grass, soft and green, and, as Minerva explained, charmed so that it needed neither water nor anything else and was indestructible. Apparently, the bed had the same charm on it.  
  
The walls of the room looked like a real forest, too and were magical because the younger trees were swaying slightly in the wind and from time to time an animal would rush past or even stick its head through the wall into Harry's room. To top it all off, a real stream was running through Harry's room. It was deep, but the current was not strong.  
  
"It will always have the temperature you want it to have. You can drink the water or swim in there or both, it's up to you. There's a permanent cleaning spell on the water, so you need not worry about hygiene, it will always be clean no matter what you do. You can even wash your hair in there if you like, the shampoo or soap will vanish immediately. If you dive under the wall you will land directly in the lake on the grounds. You can return here by diving under the rocks at the south end of the lake. Do you have any questions?"  
  
Harry shook his head and finally managed to close his mouth.  
  
"This is brilliant! Thank you so much!"  
  
Minerva smiled at him almost motherly.  
  
"You are most welcome, Harry. Now, I suggest that you unpack your trunk and then go to sleep, it has been a long day. Goodnight."  
  
Minerva started to walk towards the door but then hesitated and turned around once more.  
  
"Harry.....are you alright? Because of- tonight?"  
  
Harry forced a smile and said:  
  
"I'm fine, Minerva. Don't worry."  
  
The professor gave him another rare smile and left.  
  
Harry started to unpack his trunk immediately. He put his old schoolbooks and all the other books he possessed (most of them about Quidditch) on to the book shelves, then got another pleasant surprise as he started to put his clothes away.  
  
Instead of Dudley's large hand-me-downs that he was used to, his trunk was full of new muggle clothes that actually fit, light, colourful wizarding summer robes, mainly green, blue and red ones, heavy cloaks and robes for cold winter days and even two or three pyjamas. Harry gaped at those clothes for while, wondering who on earth would give him so much. Then he noticed a note at the bottom of the trunk. With slightly shaking fingers he unfolded it and read:  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I retrieved your things from the Dursleys and saw the clothes those muggles have given you. I threw them all away and bought you new ones instead. We can't have you running around in your school robes or those rags all summer, can we? If you look into your wardrobe, you will also find a new pair of shoes and swimming trunks. All those clothes are charmed so that they will grow with you whenever you grow and will always fit you perfectly. Consider this thirteen birthday gifts in one from your godmother.  
  
Love, Minerva  
  
P.S.: Don't even think of thanking me for this, or I will hex you.  
  
Harry smiled happily. This was great! He quickly went over to the wardrobe and opened it. Sure enough, there was a brand-new pair of black-and-white sports shoes and a blue pair of swimming trunks.  
  
Harry put all of his new clothes into the wardrobe and then changed into one of the new pyjamas. He shoved his trunk under the bed and looked around his room in satisfaction.  
  
Deciding to take a bath in the stream first thing in the morning, Harry yawned and climbed into the amazingly soft bed. The covers were midnight blue, Harry could see the night sky through the leaves above his head and hear a soft breeze rustling them.  
  
Shoving all thoughts of the evening out of his head, Harry closed his eyes and fell asleep quickly.  
  
**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************  
  
A/N: Phew! That was chapter 5! What do you think? Did you like it? Please review and let me know!  
  
Thanks to all those wonderful people who reviewed the last chapter!  
  
See ya,  
  
Felinity ^_^ 


	6. Chapter Six: Surprises

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter characters you might recognise! I do own Rhianna Lupin and M.'s book (you'll see!).  
  
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Chapter 6  
  
Surprises  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
Harry didn't sleep well that night. He tossed and turned, and then he had a nightmare.  
  
~*~  
  
He was in the graveyard again. He saw a figure approaching and desperately tried to warn Cedric, but it was of no use. The pain in his scar forced him to his knees and he had to watch Wormtail kill Cedric again.  
  
But then, instead of simply lying there, Cedric fixed his hollow, lifeless eyes on Harry and whispered,  
  
"You killed me! How could you, Harry? How could you!"  
  
Harry's eyes widened in horror.  
  
"No! Cedric, I didn't mean to kill you, please, you have to believe me, I didn't know....."  
  
"Liar!" hissed Cedric. "So many people have already died for or because of you, but you don't care, do you, Harry? Your own parents..... Professor Quirrel..... Bertha Jorkins..... that old muggle gardener..... myself..... all those muggles Voldemort has tortured..... it's all your fault!"  
  
"No," Harry whispered, blinking back tears, "No! Cedric, please, I didn't know the cup was a portkey! I didn't want those people to die! Please, Cedric, you have to believe me....."  
  
"Liar!" Cedric shouted again. "It's all your fault, Harry Potter, you're a murderer, everything is your fault!"  
  
Harry's vision blurred from all those tears, and Cedric's face changed into Voldemort's.  
  
"Harry Potter....." he hissed, "Do you know what you have done? It's your fault that I am back..... you are responsible for everyone who has to die..... give up, Harry..... join me..... together we can rule the world, and I promise not to hurt those who are dear to you....."  
  
Harry screamed. "NO! I won't believe you! You're lying!"  
  
Voldemort snarled at Harry. "You'll regret this, Potter! I will kill everyone around you, until you are left completely alone, and then I will kill you, too!"  
  
Voldemort broke into a fit of high, cold, maniacal laughter that sent shivers down Harry's spine..... and then the scenery changed again, Harry could still hear Voldemort laughing, but now he was back at his parents' house.  
  
He watched his father duel with Voldemort, then his mother plead for his life. Harry screamed at her to move, tried with all his might to run forward..... but invisible bonds closed around him, and he had to watch Voldemort kill his mother..... before Voldemort pointed his wand at little Harry, however, his mother suddenly turned on the floor to look at him and everything else faded away.  
  
"Harry," she said, her voice monotone, "It's your fault that I am dead..... you killed James and me....."  
  
Harry stumbled back in horror, suddenly able to move again. "No," he whispered, then louder, "NO!"  
  
His mother faded away, and Harry was left alone in the cold, dark space. Whispers engulfed him, wafting all around him, getting louder and louder by the second.  
  
"It's your fault..... murderer..... you killed me....... you killed us..... it's all your fault..... you deserve to die..... pity you didn't die together with your parents..... useless..... murderer..... your fault..... murderer....."  
  
Harry screamed.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry shot up in his bed, gasping for breath. He was shaking all over, and noticed that his pillow was drenched with sweat and tears. His scar hurt like hell and that dream had been so horrible! It had seemed so real.....  
  
Before he could think further, the portrait was thrown open violently and Sirius burst into the room, closely followed by Remus.  
  
"Harry!" Sirius shouted, running over to his bed quickly. "Are you alright?"  
  
Harry wanted to tell his godfather and friend that everything was fine, but found himself unable to.  
  
The next moment he felt warm arms wrap themselves around him. Sirius had drawn him into a hug. The three of them just sat there silently for a few minutes, Harry in Sirius's protective embrace and Remus sitting on the bed next to them, stroking Harry's hair soothingly.  
  
Finally, Harry's tears subsided and he stopped shaking. Sirius released him.  
  
"Harry, what was that dream?"  
  
Harry started.  
  
"How did you know about my dream?"  
  
Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes He looked tired.  
  
"The connection, Harry. Your dream, while it was obviously a nightmare, not a vision, involved Voldemort. All Council members saw it."  
  
Harry blanched and looked down.  
  
"Oh no."  
  
This was worse than he had thought. Now they would all know about his nightmares whenever he had one- how humiliating!  
  
"Don't worry, Harry," Sirius said reassuringly, "It doesn't matter."  
  
Then, suddenly, Harry noticed something strange. His head snapped back up.  
  
"Sirius! Remus! This was no nightmare."  
  
The two marauders frowned in confusion.  
  
"What do you mean, it was no nightmare?" Remus asked.  
  
"Do you remember Voldemort's threat?"  
  
The adults nodded.  
  
"I would never dream of anything like that. It was too horrible, I'm telling you, this was no normal nightmare. And he asked me to join him. Why in the name of Merlin would I have a nightmare about Voldemort asking me to join him? That's just ridiculous! I think Voldemort must have sent the dream."  
  
Silence filled the room as Sirius and Remus stared at Harry.  
  
"Harry," Sirius said finally, in a deadly serious voice.  
  
"Are you aware of what you're saying? If Voldemort has really found a way to manipulate your dreams, then this is very grave indeed. Dreams are a very important thing for the human mind, in your dreams you deal with things that you were unable to handle while you were awake. If Voldemort has found a way to deprive you of that, he could destroy you slowly and systematically. We'll go to Dumbledore with you first thing in the morning."  
  
Harry nodded and sighed. Then another question arose in his mind. "Sirius, Remus, why are you here? I didn't wake you, did I? Or did you wake up after the dream? But then, why are the others not here?"  
  
Sirius and Remus glanced at each other uneasily.  
  
"Dumbledore included a wakening spell in our connection with you,"Sirius said, "Whenever you have a dream about Voldemort, the Order will wake up immediately even if you might not. There might be the need for us to act quickly."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I didn't mean to wake you because of something as stupid as this."  
  
He felt a hand brush over his hair again and looked up into Remus's concerned eyes.  
  
"It doesn't matter, Harry," the werewolf assured his young friend, "Don't feel bad about it. I'm glad we came."  
  
"Yeah," Sirius agreed, "What kind of godfather would I be if I weren't there for you after a nightmare?"  
  
Sirius looked so mortally offended, that Harry had to smile.  
  
"Oh, and Harry," Remus said, "I hope you didn't take that dream too seriously. We already told you that Cedric's death wasn't your fault, and if Cedric was here, I'm sure he would tell you the same thing.  
  
"And neither was your parents' death. Lily and James chose to die for you, Harry, because they loved you very much. If they had seen that nightmare of yours, they would have been rolling in their graves. Lily would never, ever want you to feel guilty about her and James's deaths. Never forget that, Harry. They gave their lives so that you could live. This is the most valuable gift they could have given you, my young friend. And they would never take it back."  
  
Harry nodded, and smiled tentatively at Remus. He felt like a very big weight had just been lifted off him. Coming from Remus, he knew that this was true. After all, nobody in this world had known Harry's parents better than Sirius and Remus.  
  
"See, you're smiling again," Remus said, smiling himself. "Do you want to try to go back to sleep now, Harry?"  
  
Harry shook his head vehemently.  
  
"I'll only have another nightmare," he mumbled.  
  
"We can give you some Dreamless-Sleep Potion, Harry," Sirius remarked.  
  
Harry thought about it for a minute and nodded. Remus smiled and left the room. He returned not two minutes later and Harry assumed that he'd fetched the potion from his room.  
  
Harry opened the bottle and raised it to his lips before he remembered something that had been on his mind ever since he'd seen his room.  
  
"Sirius, Remus, what do your rooms look like? Are they like this one?"  
  
Sirius shook his head with a mischievous grin.  
  
"Oh no, Harry. Every room here is different. Mine is a landscape with many green hills..... Irish, I think. In the background there is a small village. I also have a stream like this running through my room.  
  
"Remus's is a forest with a stream, too, but while your room resembles a clearing, his looks like a meadow at the edge of a forest.  
  
"If I heard Minerva correctly, you can dive under the wall and arrive directly in the lake, right?"  
  
Harry nodded, completely fascinated.  
  
Remus took over where Sirius had left off.  
  
"You see, Harry, each room has a different secret. I can walk through my wall and land at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, which will be very useful every full moon.  
  
"Sirius can walk through his wall as well, only he will land behind some bushes in Hogsmeade.  
  
"I believe that every room in the teachers' wing has its very own secret. I know for sure that Severus has a connection to his potions lab. Madam Hooch can get onto the Quidditch field. Your godmother can get into a secret room in Hogwarts that is full of books on Transfiguration. Albus, I believe, has a secret passage to a room with enchanted instruments that will always play the music he wants to hear the most when he enters the room..... he likes chamber music. Of course you can always get back into your rooms the same way. So every room is different and magical in its very own way."  
  
Harry nodded. He would never get tired of learning about the peculiarities of the magical world.  
  
"How about you take your potion now, Harry?"  
  
Harry was brought out of his reverie by Remus's voice. He nodded.  
  
"Right. And Sirius, Remus..... thank you. For everything."  
  
The two smiled at him and Harry was grateful that they seemed to understand that he wasn't only thanking them for tonight, but also for the past two years when they had been there for him.  
  
"You're welcome." They both replied. Then Harry raised the goblet again and downed the sleeping potion in three large gulps. He fell back into his pillows immediately and felt someone take the goblet from his limp fingers..... then he was fast asleep.  
  
~*~  
  
When Harry awoke again it was still rather early, though it was light outside. Looking around the room, Harry's eyes came to rest upon the stream. He was very curious if what Minerva had told him was true, so he got out of his bed quickly and stripped off his clothes. Then, he went over to the cupboard and put on his new swimming trunks (they fit perfectly) and slid into the stream.  
  
The water was wonderful, not too warm and not too cold. Harry began to swim around for a while, simply enjoying the water. Then he held his breath and dived under the wall..... and splash! Harry landed in the lake. Harry looked behind himself quickly, but there was nothing, just air. A bit uncomfortably, Harry realized that he was almost in the middle of the lake and that the water here was much colder. Deciding that it wouldn't do to freeze on the spot, Harry began to swim, slowly, to the South end of the lake. The problem was that Harry wasn't a good swimmer. He had never had lessons like Dudley and the second task last year had really been the first time Harry had ever swum. He supposed that the Gillyweed had helped him- the only other logical explanation would be that he was a natural at swimming.  
  
However, what Harry lacked was practise. Harry mentally chided himself for being so stupid, he should never have come out here in the first place.  
  
Harry almost collapsed from relief and exhaustion when he finally reached the end of the lake. His arms and legs were heavy from the exertion and coldness and at the same time burning as though there was fire in his veins instead of blood.  
  
Fortunately, Harry managed to find the entrance to his rooms quickly: there was a group of big rocks, right at the shore. Harry inhaled deeply, then dived again. Under the water, he found immediately what he was looking for; there, between the two largest rocks, was a cleft. Harry swam through it quickly, and with a quiet gurgling sound found himself in 'his' stream again.  
  
Gratefully Harry stayed in the warm water for another few minutes, then he got his shampoo and soap and took a bath in the now wonderfully hot river.  
  
Harry decided that he would swim every morning from then on until he wouldn't have any problems with reaching the shore anymore.  
  
After he was clean, Harry climbed out of his stream and noticed with astonishment that a lot of time had passed while he had swum and that he would be late for breakfast if he didn't hurry.  
  
He dried himself quickly and put on some of his new clothes: a green (Harry realised that it really did bring out the colour of his eyes, like Mrs. Weasley had claimed the year before) lightweight summer robe (as it was quite hot this day) and his brand new sports shoes. Like everything else they fit perfectly and were very comfortable. Then, with another happy smile at his room, Harry left for breakfast.  
  
It took him quite a while to find his way to the great hall, he didn't know his way around in this part of Hogwarts. After ten minutes of straying through unfamiliar corridors Harry was thoroughly lost and getting a little desperate. What if he couldn't find his way into the great hall at all? What if he couldn't even find his way back to his room?!? Harry broke into a run. He bit his lip worriedly as he rounded the next corner and-  
  
"OMPH!"  
  
Harry had quite literally bumped into another person and both he and the other had crashed to the floor.  
  
Harry scrambled to his feet hastily and looked down at the person staring up at him in annoyance. It was Professor Snape.  
  
Even though Snape had been nice the day before Harry didn't quite know how to react, so he started to gush out apologies.  
  
"Oh my god, Professor! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, I shouldn't have run, really Professor I'm sorr-"  
  
Snape eyed the boy in front of him in disgruntled amusement.  
  
"Don't worry, Mr. Potter, I'm not going to bite your head off."  
  
He got up again and brushed the dirt off his robes.  
  
Looking up, he noticed that Harry was still looking at him anxiously. Severus sighed and wished for the thousandth time in those past few days that he hadn't been so hard on the boy in the past.  
  
"Anyway," he continued, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "Why where you running down this corridor as if Voldemort himself was chasing you?"  
  
Harry flushed in embarrassment and looked down.  
  
"I, kind of, got lost." Harry mumbled.  
  
To his surprise, Snape laughed.  
  
"Yes, the teachers' wing is the most complex part of the castle there is, probably to keep the students from snooping around. It took me three months to know my way around. I presume that you were on your way to breakfast?"  
  
Harry nodded, feeling relieved that Snape wasn't angry at him. On their way towards the great hall, Harry caught the Professor stealing sidelong glances at him several times.  
  
After a while, Harry got annoyed. He hated it when people stared at him. He stopped so abruptly that the armours along the corridor flinched (noisily).  
  
"Professor, why are you staring at me?"  
  
Harry asked bluntly. Snape looked away hastily, seemingly embarrassed at having been caught by Harry.  
  
"It's nothing," Snape mumbled and continued his walk down the corridor.  
  
But Harry wasn't going to let his potions master off the hook so easily. He grabbed the teacher's arm and spun him around. They held a silent staring contest for almost a minute, then Snape had to look away.  
  
"It's just..... that was your dream tonight, wasn't it?" Harry flinched. Now he wished that he hadn't asked.  
  
Snape was staring at him with something akin to pity in his eyes. Harry flinched again. He hated pity! But he supposed that he did owe his professor an answer. Harry lowered his gaze to the floor.  
  
"Yes," he admitted quietly, "that was my dream."  
  
Harry looked up again into the beetle black eyes still fixating him and smiled definatly.  
  
"It's okay, though. Remus and Sirius came into my room afterwards and..... well..... comforted me."  
  
Harry flushed slightly in embarrassment and gave Snape a tentative smile- which, to Harry's ultimate surprise, was returned.  
  
"That's good." Snape commented simply and then continued on to the great hall, Harry in tow.  
  
~*~  
  
They arrived at the Great Hall a few minutes later.  
  
Snape pushed open the doors and they entered. Harry noticed immediately that the hall was different now that there weren't any students around.  
  
The banners usually decorating the walls had been removed (for cleaning, Harry assumed), the house tables were pushed against the walls and the staff table stood in the middle of the hall. It reminded Harry a little of Christmas, without the trees and decorations, of course.  
  
Sitting at the table was the most of the staff of Hogwarts, plus Sirius. Harry and Snape made their way over quickly and sat down in the last two remaining seats: Harry between Minerva and Sirius, Snape next to Dumbledore and Flitwick.  
  
After the usual polite exchanges of 'good morning' and 'how are you' everyone returned to their previous conversations.  
  
Harry meanwhile was busy eating (after his morning swim he felt truly famished). He looked up when he felt a pair of eyes on him.  
  
"Harry, about that dream last night....." Minerva said reluctantly. Harry sighed, noticing that the conversation at the table had died down and everyone was looking at him with curiosity and apprehension, as well as compassion.  
  
He put down his fork, sat up a little straighter and forced himself to look everyone in the eye while answering.  
  
"As I already told Sirius, Remus and Professor Snape, that was no normal nightmare. I believe that Voldemort somehow sent it."  
  
Harry noticed that Dumbledore had gone a bit pale and was leaning forward in his seat slightly.  
  
"And what, Harry, makes you think that?"  
  
Harry hesitated. Seeing all eyes still fixed on him, he decided that he had to tell them the truth.  
  
"There is something I haven't told anyone about, not even Ron and Hermione," he started quietly.  
  
"It happened down in the dungeons with Professor Quirrell and Voldemort. I had looked into the Mirror of Erised and somehow got the philosopher's stone, and then Quirrell took off his turban.....  
  
***********************FLASHBACK*************************  
  
Harry would have screamed, but he couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen.  
  
It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.  
  
"Harry Potter....." it whispered.  
  
Harry tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldn't move.  
  
"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapour..... I have form only when I can share another's body..... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds..... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks..... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest..... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will also be able to create a body of my own..... Now..... why don't you give me that stone in your pocket?"  
  
So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Harry's legs. He stumbled backward.  
  
"Don't be a fool," snarled the face, "Better safe your own life and join me..... or you'll meet the same end as your parents...... They died begging me for mercy......"  
  
"LIAR!"  
  
**************************END FLASHBACK***************************  
  
Harry stared ahead unseeingly.  
  
"You see?" he said quietly. "Voldemort asked me to join him in my first year and I refused. He never approached me on the subject again, he must have seen that it would have been useless. And now, after three years, I'm having nightmares about Voldemort trying to get me to join him?"  
  
Harry shook his head again doubtfully.  
  
"That just doesn't make any sense. No, I'm telling you, that dream didn't come from my mind. That was Voldemort's work."  
  
Everything was silent for a few seconds, then most of the teachers nodded and went back to their food.  
  
Dumbledore however was frowning deeply.  
  
"Thank you, Harry. Of course we'll have to do something about those dreams. Severus, do you think that you could make Harry some dreamless-sleep potion for the next two weeks until his birthday?"  
  
The Potions Master nodded in agreement, but asked,  
  
"Of course, Albus. But why only until his birthday?"  
  
The wizened old wizard smiled gently at the still-fourteen-year-old boy.  
  
"Because in two weeks, Severus, young Harry here will be so powerful that Voldemort will be unable to mess with his mind."  
  
Before anyone could react to that statement, the doors of the great hall opened again. Everyone looked up in surprise. There, in the doorway, stood Professor Trelawney. Harry could barely suppress a groan, earning himself looks of sympathy from his godmother and godfather.  
  
Dumbledore however, being his usual cordial self, had stood up from the table and greeted Professor Trelawney, drawing her a chair that plopped down between himself and Snape.  
  
Harry was sure that if looks could kill, the headmaster would be six feet under, judging by the way the potions master was glaring at him.  
  
Professor Trelawney seemed oblivious to the less-than-enthusiastic greetings she was receiving from everyone else and glided toward the table in her usual glittery-insect-fashion. But just as she was about to sit down, she let out an ear-piercing shriek.  
  
"Headmaster, I dare not! If I sit down at this table, we'll be thirteen! You know that the first person to get up from a table of thirteen will die within the next week!"  
  
Harry looked around the table. Trelawney was right (for once). There were Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, Vektor and Lupin, and Sirius, Madam Hooch, Hagrid and Harry himself. All in all twelve people.  
  
Dumbledore kept up his smile, though to Harry it looked a little strained, and said pleasantly,  
  
"Ah, my dear Sibyll, I'm sure that won't be a problem. If I remember correctly, we had that same situation at Christmas two years ago, and none of the people sitting at that table have died as of yet. If you would be so kind as to sit down now, I'm sure the bacon tastes better as long as it is still warm, don't you agree?"  
  
Trelawney sat with a face as though someone was forcing her to look at something extremely disgusting.  
  
Harry just rolled his eyes and continued to eat his breakfast, idly chatting away with his godparents.  
  
"So, Harry, what do you plan on doing today?" Minerva asked.  
  
Harry shrugged.  
  
"Oh, I'm not sure yet. I was thinking of going to the library and getting a start on my homework, and maybe take a swim in the afternoon. I might also go flying..... yeah, I haven't done this in a much too long time!"  
  
Harry's godparents smiled at the boy's enthusiasm, both thinking the same thing: Just like James!  
  
After finishing his bacon and eggs, Harry excused himself and got up from the table, thinking of what he would really look up in the library. A piercing shriek brought him out of his reverie.  
  
"Oh sweet Merlin! You poor boy! Oh no, I knew it, I always knew it....." Trelawney's voice faded.  
  
Harry looked at her in confusion.  
  
"Um, what, sorry?" he asked, completely stumped.  
  
Trelawney's eyes widened, making her look more like an overgrown dragon fly than ever.  
  
"Don't you remember, boy?" Trelawney whispered dramatically, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. "The first one to leave a table of thirteen is going to die within the week! Oh you poor boy, you poor boy, I always knew it!"  
  
Harry crossed his arms and frowned at his Divination Professor. He was getting really fed up with her.  
  
Meanwhile, Trelawney didn't notice Harry's dangerous mood swing and continued to rant on.  
  
"Oh poor boy..... poor boy..... yes, I saw it in your first lesson..... it is coming closer..... death is looming over you....."  
  
That was it. Harry had had enough. He looked pointedly up at the sky and said, feigning a thoughtful look:  
  
"Oh really? Death is looming over me? And there I thought it was the ceiling! Gee, thanks, I wouldn't have noticed!"  
  
And then, ignoring the flustered Divination Professor and the chuckles of the other teachers, Harry turned on his heel and left the great hall.  
  
~*~  
  
The library of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was huge.  
  
There were thousands of shelves with millions of books, Harry doubted that any wizard or witch could read them all in a lifetime. Then again, Hermione probably had.  
  
The problem was that Harry didn't know where he should start looking and he definitely didn't want to ask Madam Pince for advice as she was sure to tell the other Hogwarts staff about Harry Potter reading up on the subject of werewolf offspring.  
  
Harry had forgotten about Rhianna Lupin the day before, but this morning, in the river, the memory of Hermione telling him and Ron that lycanthropy was heritable had come back. Harry intended to find out if that was true.  
  
Deciding that he might as well start looking, Harry picked one corner of the library and started to work his way systematically through it.  
  
"Merlin..... famous wizards of the past millennium..... Herbology..... Potions, ugh, definitely not..... and..... oh my god-"  
  
Harry blushed a deep red. Looking up, he noticed that he had somehow ended up in the "just for sixth years and above"-section. Harry could see why.  
  
He quickly moved away and passed the restricted section. Harry hesitated. Maybe the book he was looking for was there? –No, he decided. He would look through the 'legal' part of the library first before moving on to the forbidden.  
  
"History of Goblin Revolutions..... Elven Wars..... Hogwarts: A History, oh, Hermione would love it if I read that..... Magical Beasts and where to find them..... getting closer....." and finally: "The history of lycanthropy".  
  
Harry picked up the book and flipped through the pages quickly, but decided that it was not the right book for him.  
  
He noticed that werewolves had a whole section dedicated to them. Looking over the books, Harry searched for a title that seemed promising.  
  
"'Werewolves: The monsters in your town' by A. Paranoyd - nope, definitely not. 'What to do when the worst has happened' by Th. E. Pessymyst - no.  
  
'Werewolves- a scientific study by M. I. Earnest'" Harry smiled. That sounded good. He pulled the unbelievably thick book down from the shelf and quickly left the library.  
  
~*~  
  
Back in his room, Harry sat down in one of the extremely comfortable chairs (Harry suspected that they had cushioning charms on them) and started on the book.  
  
Checking the index, Harry noticed quickly that he already knew most of the stuff in the book. However, there was one chapter that peaked his interest. 'Werewolves: Genes and Heritage' page 3427.  
  
Harry went to the page quickly and started reading. Most of the chapter was clear, stating that werewolves could reproduce just like normal people. But then, finally, Harry found the thing he had been looking for:  
  
'It is a scarcely known fact that lycanthropy is indeed heritable.  
When receiving the bite, the human's DNA changes considerably, it will  
still be that of a human being but with some parts of the wolf in it.  
  
The more werewolf blood the child's parents have in them, the more  
likely it is for the child to become a werewolf.  
  
'Children whose parents are both cursed with lycanthropy will always  
be born as werewolves.  
Children with only one werewolf-parent have a small chance of being  
what most people consider normal.  
  
'However, werewolf genes are extremely dominant and the chances for  
children born from a liaison of a werewolf and normal human of not  
being werewolves themselves are about 1:25.  
  
'However, children born from such "second-generation-werewolves" have  
more often than not been completely human. Scientists have speculated  
for years, but have not come up with a clear answer. Fact is that  
there has never been a "fourth-generation-werewolf"- unless their  
parents, grandparents and great-grandparents had all been werewolves.  
Since lycanthropy is rather rare on the planet Earth, such a case has  
only been recorded once in history, in 189 B.C.  
In that time, a family called 'Sheppard'...'  
  
Harry stopped reading and lowered the book, looking out of the window thoughtfully. So lycanthropy was indeed heritable..... and even though Rhianna Lupin's mother might be a normal witch or even a muggle, Rhianna herself was most likely a werewolf.  
  
Harry wondered what she would be like. Would they become friends? Harry smiled at the thought of the famous Gryffindor trio becoming a quartet. He liked the thought. The trouble with being a trio was that one person was often excluded. Whether it was in a fight or while just talking normally, it was almost always him and Ron or him and Hermione or Ron and Hermione talking or joking or working together, and the third member of their group just listened or did something else.  
  
Yes, Harry thought smiling. He couldn't wait to get to know Rhianna.  
  
Harry decided that he should probably better take the book back to the library before Madam Pince noticed anything.  
  
He got up quietly, still lost in his thoughts, and walked back into the library and to the werewolf section. He put the book in its original place and slowly walked along the shelves. Harry let his eyes stray over the millions of books in the huge library.....  
  
And then, something caught his eye. It was a small, blue book with a pretty gold pattern on its back, looking strangely out of place between all the heavy, dusty, old volumes on transfiguration around it.  
  
Harry felt entranced by the book, it was calling to him, he could feel it..... Harry kneeled down and very carefully extracted the book from between the others. He wiped the dust off of it and slowly turned it over.  
  
The title was written in a strange language, Harry didn't understand it..... He ran his finger gently across its cover, and suddenly, there was a tingling feeling in his scar. Harry blinked in confusion and looked around the room. Nobody was there. Harry just shrugged it off, thinking that he must have imagined it, and turned back to the book.  
  
Harry gasped. Where only seconds before there had been strange symbols, there was now, clear as day, a title written in English:  
  
'ANIMAGI'  
  
In the right corner of the book it said 'by M.'  
  
Harry stared. It was a book on Animagi! Brilliant! And it looked as though it hadn't been read in centuries.  
  
Looking around and making sure that nobody was watching, Harry quickly stuffed the small book into his pocket and left the library.  
  
Checking his watch, Harry noticed that it was already lunch time. Had he been reading the book on werewolves for so long?  
  
Shaking his head in amazement, Harry shoved all thoughts of the mysterious blue book aside and made his way down to the great hall.  
  
~*~  
  
Upon entering the great hall, Harry noticed immediately that some of the Order members had returned.  
  
Charlie and Bill Weasley were sitting there, waving at him merrily, Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher had also returned.  
  
There was another man at the table, he was tall, had dark hair, piercing blue eyes (much like Dumbledore's) and seemed to be in his late thirties. From the conversations Harry quickly gathered that this man was called Mr. Skillridge and was here on 'business'.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry had just finished his second helping of pork chops when Charlie leaned across the table and said,  
  
"Hey, Harry. Fancy a game of Quidditch?"  
  
Harry looked at him in surprise, but then he grinned and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Is this supposed to be a challenge?"  
  
Charlie grinned back, and Harry suddenly realized that the whole table was listening to their conversation with rapt attention.  
  
"If you want to put it that way, yes. I'm always listening to Ron, Ginny, Fred and George talking about your Quidditch talent, and so I thought I'd like to see you fly myself."  
  
Harry nodded. He knew that Charlie had been a legendary seeker in his time at Hogwarts- good enough, in fact, that he would have played for England, had he not been more interested in dragons.  
  
"Alright," he said. "What are the teams?"  
  
But Charlie shook his head.  
  
"No teams. Just the snitch and the two of us. I know that you've got a Firebolt and so do I. It'll be a Seeker's competition. Deal?"  
  
He extended his hand toward Harry, who shook it.  
  
"Deal."  
  
"I've got to see this."  
  
Harry and Charlie looked up, realising only then that everyone was watching them. Especially Mr. Skillridge.  
  
Dumbledore nodded and said: "We can all go. I think we all need a break from the work. Harry, Charlie, you don't mind us watching, do you?"  
  
Charlie shook his head, smiling brightly.  
  
Harry shook his head hesitantly. He did not like the attention, but then again, he supposed he might as well get used to it. He was The-Boy-Who- Lived after all, attention would be following him around all his life.  
  
Soon after that, everyone was outside on the Quidditch pitch.  
  
Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, Vektor and Lupin along with Sirius (in human form), Hagrid, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Bill Weasley and Mr. Skillridge sat in the stands. Madam Hooch had brought out the Quidditch balls. Harry and Charlie shook hands, the official sign for the challenge to begin.  
  
"Alright, boys," Madam Hooch said, "On my whistle." She released the snitch which quickly vanished from sight. Then the flying instructor raised her whistle and said, "One- Two- Three!"  
  
Pheeeeeeet! The whistle blew and Harry kicked off. The wind rushed by his face, and Harry couldn't help laughing in ecstasy. Flying was great, he felt at home, he felt free, this was where he belonged, there on his broom a hundred feet up in the air.  
  
Charlie turned to him and smiled.  
  
"Haven't flown in a while, have you?" he asked kindly.  
  
Harry nodded, still smiling widely.  
  
"Not since the first task last year."  
  
He responded and then started looking for the snitch.  
  
The sky was clear and blue, the perfect weather for Quidditch.  
  
However, Harry soon discovered that seeker competitions were extremely boring. Without the other players, there wasn't much to do, and Harry decided to do some more difficult flying before the snitch decided to show itself. Harry had long ago forgotten about the spectators of their little game.  
  
He started with some loops before flying three times around the Quidditch pitch at top speed. He noticed Charlie looking at him with a stunned expression on his face and said a little defensively,  
  
"What? I'm bored."  
  
Ignoring the Weasley Son's chuckles, he went on with his occupational therapy. Harry did all tricks that came to his mind. He rolled over a few times in midair, stood up flying on the broom, dived at full speed and pulled out just in time (Personally, Harry thought that the Wronski Feint wasn't as difficult as it looked) and did all sorts of other things.  
  
Harry was just about to do another somersault when he spotted a golden glimmer at the far end of the pitch. Immediately, he was back on his broom and started to race toward the small golden ball.  
  
But Charlie had seen it too. And he had been closer to the snitch by almost 30 feet.  
  
Harry flattened himself against the broomstick and started to fly like never before. But Charlie, Harry realised, was one hell of a flyer.  
  
Harry gritted his teeth, pushing his broom even further..... and slowly, ever so slowly, he was gaining ground..... just five feet..... now he was tailing Charlie..... they were head-to-head.....  
  
The snitch loomed right ahead. Taking both hands off the broom handle, Harry stretched as far as he could without toppling off the broom and—  
  
"YES!"  
  
He had caught the snitch.  
  
Grinning like mad, Harry slowed his broom and turned to Charlie. The second-oldest Weasley son was smirking at him.  
  
"Well done, Harry! Now I know what the others were talking about! Your flying is truly incredible."  
  
Harry blushed at the compliment.  
  
"Thanks," he mumbled.  
  
Charlie extended his hand again and shook Harry's smaller one firmly. Together they made their way to the ground.  
  
"HARRY JAMES POTTER!"  
  
Harry jumped about a feet high and whirled around. His godmother was standing there, her hands on her hips and looking angrier than Harry had ever seen her. He gulped and took a step backward. What had he done wrong?  
  
"DON'T YOU DARE EVER DO THAT AGAIN! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH YOU SCARED US?"  
  
Harry stared at Minerva, feeling even more agitated. What was she talking about? Minerva was now walking toward him and Harry backed away in fear.  
  
Scenes from the Dursleys flashed across his mind.  
  
Minerva grabbed Harry's arm, still looking mad, and Harry was getting ready to beg for his life, when suddenly.....  
  
Minerva hugged him fiercely. Harry stood stiffly in the embrace, not quite knowing how to react. Had his godmother lost her mind? One minute she was screaming bloody murder and the next she was hugging him like there was no tomorrow.  
  
Harry met Sirius's eyes looking over his godmother's shoulder and threw him a perplexed glance, but Sirius only shrugged helplessly and mouthed something that looked suspiciously like 'women'.  
  
Finally Minerva released Harry, whose attention was immediately diverted by Mr. Skillridge. The man had a strange gleam in his eyes.  
  
Harry noticed that all the teachers and Order members had now joined their little group and Dumbledore had stepped up beside Mr. Skillridge.  
  
"Harry," the old mage said kindly, an odd light twinkling in his eyes, "May I introduce to you a very old friend of mine, Mr. Skillridge, coach of the E.N.Q.T., also known as the English National Quidditch Team."  
  
Harry's eyes went wide. The only thing he could think was 'Oh. My. God.'.  
  
Mr. Skillridge stepped forward and extended his hand to Harry, who shook it, still in a daze.  
  
"Mr. Potter. Would you like to play for the English National Quidditch Team starting from this season on?"  
  
Harry gaped in shock. The man couldn't be serious! Vaguely, a memory came to Harry's mind. It was in his first year on the Quidditch pitch, after Wood had explained the rules of the game.....  
  
***************************FLASHBACK*******************************  
  
Wood pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch.  
  
Harry didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had already fallen and they couldn't carry on.  
  
"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as they trudged back up to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."  
  
***************************END FLASHBACK***************************  
  
Yes, that's what Wood had said. But he had never thought it to be true..... never thought that he, Harry, would actually get an offer from the Quidditch team..... Harry's head started to spin. He shook himself out of his daze.  
  
"Um..... what?" He managed to get out.  
  
The coach smiled at Harry kindly, and Harry instantly decided that he liked this man.  
  
"The English national team, Harry, is very strong.  
  
"We have a keeper, Alex McDougal, who has won the 'B. K.O.Y., Best Keeper Of the Year- Award three times in the past five years.  
  
"Our beaters, Jean Iron and Gill Kane, are unbeatable (no pun intended), they are like human Bludgers.  
  
"Our three chasers, Matthew Curdigen, Samantha Strey and Ann Lee, are the best chasers we have ever had and when working together, no move is too difficult for them to perform.  
  
"Our only problem, Harry, is that we don't have a good Seeker. The last one, Jess McKinley, had to be fired after last year's World Cup because it turned out that she had made a deal with our opponents; she corrupted our chasers' moves seemingly by accident and blocked our keeper (a substitute by the way, Alex was injured during the World Cup) for almost the whole game.  
  
"We held try-outs, of course, but none of the candidates were good enough to play on the national team.  
  
"What I'm asking you to do, Harry, is to save the team from our predicament and play seeker for us. I know that this is a lot to ask, especially with you still being in school, and I won't hide from you the fact that with your barely fifteen years you'd be the youngest international Quidditch player ever. Even Mr. Krum was seventeen years old when he started.  
  
"But we desperately need a good Seeker, Harry, and Merlin help me if I have ever seen anyone flying as good as you do!"  
  
There was a brief silence, Harry didn't know what to say.  
  
He didn't get the chance to answer, anyway, as Mr. Skillridge started talking again. "Harry. I don't want you to feel pressured to accept my offer in any way, but please, consider it wisely. England needs a Seeker with your talent. You do not need to decide now, I'll be here until tomorrow waiting for your answer."  
  
With that, Mr. Skillridge turned on his heel and went back up to the castle, most of the teachers and Order members following him, giving smiles and winks to Harry.  
  
In the end, only Harry, Dumbledore, Minerva, Sirius, Hagrid, Snape and Remus remained. All seven of the adults were smiling at Harry with pride in their eyes. Even Snape smirked. It made Harry feel both nervous, embarrassed and very warm inside.  
  
The shock started to wear off and Harry's legs felt like they were about to give in. Harry promptly sat down on the grass, a strange ringing sound in his ears.  
  
"Harry?" Remus's voice came from a seemingly great distance. "What are you going to tell Mr. Skillridge?"  
  
Harry shook his head slowly and looked into his mentor's gentle chocolate brown eyes.  
  
"I....." Harry swallowed. "I don't know. What should I tell him?"  
  
Remus sighed.  
  
"That, my young friend, is your own decision. The question is: Do you want to play?"  
  
Harry considered this. Did he want to play? The answer came to him quickly and clearly. Harry smiled at his adult friends and got up again.  
  
"Well?" Minerva asked curiously. "Have you made up your mind?"  
  
Harry grinned at her and nodded.  
  
"An' wha's yer answer, Harry?" Hagrid asked anxiously.  
  
Harry's smile widened.  
  
"Just wait and see."  
  
He said simply and started up to the castle, ignoring the protesting grown- ups behind him.  
  
~*~  
  
The rest of the day passed in a blur for Harry. He was still slightly shocked because of Mr. Skillridge's offer.  
  
That evening, Harry couldn't sleep for a very long time. Excitement, apprehension, nervousness, happiness, shock..... all those emotions and many more were coursing through Harry, and when he finally did fall asleep, it was well past midnight and Harry was way too exhausted to dream.  
  
~*~  
  
The next day was grey and cloudy. Harry, true to his promise, took a swim in the lake. He almost froze to death, but found reaching the far end of the lake much easier than the day before.  
  
After a very hot bath in his river, Harry dried himself and pulled on blue jeans and a dark red sweatshirt.  
  
That morning, Harry found the way to the great hall on his own, though it took him almost twenty minutes to get there.  
  
The seats around the staff table were already occupied, all except for one of course, Harry's chair. Harry made his way over to the table, exchanging the usual cheerful 'Good Morning, sleep well?'s with everyone.  
  
Then, he plopped down on his chair. On his right side there was Dumbledore, who gave his student a brilliant smile.  
  
On Harry's other side sat Mr. Skillridge. Harry doubted that the seating arrangement was coincidental.  
  
The three of them, and occasionally Sirius and Remus, chatted lightly during the whole meal, and Harry discovered that Mr. Skillridge not only had a wonderful sense of humour, but was also very kind, understanding and compassionate.  
  
He reminded Harry a lot of Dumbledore- or the grandfather that he had never had. Harry found himself trusting the man instinctively and more than one time had to stop himself from spilling a secret to the man. There was something about Mr. Skillridge that made Harry want to tell him everything.  
  
After everyone had finished eating, the food disappeared.  
  
Mr. Skillridge turned to Harry and fixed him with his piercing blue eyes.  
  
"Harry." The man said in a friendly, yet serious voice. "Have you thought about my offer?" Harry noticed that the whole table had fallen silent again and everyone waited with bated breath for Harry's answer.  
  
(A/N: Such a good place to end the chapter *readers advance, tomatoes and eggs in their hands* Oh..... well..... if you put it that way..... geez, calm down, I'll continue!!! *runs away screaming*)  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
Mr. Skillridge's gaze did not waver as he asked his next question, calmly.  
  
"And what is your decision?"  
  
Harry looked around the staff table, at the anxious faces pleading with him to finally tell them.  
  
Harry looked back, straight into Mr. Skillridge's eyes. He took a deep breath and said, quietly but firmly,  
  
"I'll do it."  
  
Smiles broke out on all faces, the tension in the hall dissipated, everyone cheered or clapped Harry on the back and congratulated him.  
  
Mr. Skillridge, too, looked extremely pleased. He shook Harry's hand warmly.  
  
"Thank you Harry. Now, we have to set up a schedule with your training. The team usually meet every day, but of course for you, being in school, that will be impossible. I suggest the following.  
  
From what your professors have told me, you have Wednesday and Friday afternoons as well as the weekend off.  
  
If it is okay with you, you could participate in the practices on Wednesday from three o'clock until seven o'clock, Friday from four to eight o'clock, Saturday from Eleven to five o'clock in the afternoon, and on Sunday from three to five. Now, since today in Sunday, your first practice will be on Wednesday in three days, I will meet you at 2.30 in the entrance hall. You need to bring nothing but your broom. Alright?"  
  
Harry nodded. It would be hard keeping up this schedule once school started, but Harry was willing to do his very best.  
  
Some of his determination seemed to be showing on his face because Mr. Skillridge ruffled his hair affectionately before excusing himself, saying that he had to get back to London now.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry's head was still whirling with thoughts half an hour later when he finally left the hall. He decided to take a walk outside to clear his mind.  
  
As he walked around the great lake, Harry had the feeling that he had forgotten something..... something important.....  
  
Harry racked his brain trying to think of what it was..... and then the answer came to him. The book! The book on Animagi he had found in the library the day before!  
  
Harry turned on his heel and sprinted back to the castle at full speed. How could he have forgotten!  
  
He reached his room in next to no time.  
  
"El- Elven Clearing!" he panted.  
  
Merlin smiled down at him jovially.  
  
"Indeed it is, my dear friend!"  
  
The portrait swung open and Harry stumbled into the room. There, on his bedside table, was the book. Harry plopped down on his bed and opened the book curiously. For a second, the page remained blank, but then writing appeared.  
  
'Hello, reader. My name is Merlin, you have probably heard of me. If  
you are reading this, then it means that you are my heir, or one of  
them. For only those with my blood in their veins can read this  
writing. For everyone else it will appear to be just strange symbols.  
  
So you have decided to become an Animagus? This book will help you to  
become whatever animal you wish in an extremely short amount of time.  
How short will depend on how powerful you are.  
  
To become an Animagus, you first have to think of the animal you want  
to become. Don't try for a magical animal in the beginning as they are  
far more complicated than normal animals. Pick an animal you can  
envision clearly in your mind, maybe a certain cat or dog.....'  
  
Harry soon found out that the book worked like Tom Riddle's diary: You could write questions and the book would answer. It explained to Harry about the advantages and disadvantages of every animal form, and told Harry the six steps of becoming an Animagus:  
  
Envision the animal you want to become clearly in your mind. Pay attention to small details, like the colour of the animal's eyes and length of its fur.  
  
When you have a clear picture in your mind, try to imagine what it feels like to be this animal.  
  
Close your eyes (If you haven't already closed them before) and say  
'Muto in (Latin name of the animal you want to become)!'  
  
Make sure to stay absolutely still until the transformation is complete. Don't panic if it  
hurts a little, that's perfectly natural in the beginning.  
  
To transform back into your human form, just imagine what it felt like to be in your  
human body and say: 'Muto in Hominem!"  
  
With time you should be able to transform by just imagining yourself in your  
alternate body without saying the incantation.  
  
Harry spent all day reading the book, only leaving his room for lunch and dinner. The book explained to Harry that the transformation he was trying to achieve was not the standard Animagus, it was more of a shape-shifting ability. In the evening, Harry felt confident that he could try to transform the next day.  
  
That night he was again so exhausted that he didn't have any dreams.  
  
~*~  
  
The next morning, after his swim and breakfast with his godparents, Harry left the castle and went down to the lake.  
  
He made sure that he wasn't visible from the castle and sat down, concentrating deeply on clearing his mind, which was harder than Harry had imagined it to be.  
  
He envisioned a wolf in his mind. A beautiful Grey Wolf, like the one he had seen that one time he had been to the zoo almost five years before.  
  
The wolf's fur was grey with a bit of white, black and golden, its teeth brilliantly white and its eyes a bright green, just like Harry's.  
  
When he had envisioned the beautiful animal so clearly that he had the feeling he could almost touch it, Harry concentrated on being inside of it.  
  
What would it be like, singing to the moon, running through the forest with other wolves, feeling the leaves and sticks crunch under his paws. Drinking from a clear river somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, smelling the other animals and the trees and the moist ground..... Harry felt an odd tingling sensation and whispered, his eyes tightly closed,  
  
"Muto in lupum!"  
  
It was the most weird feeling Harry had ever known. It felt like his body was being taken apart and put back together differently, but it didn't hurt much, just prickled and burned slightly.  
  
This went on for almost a minute, Harry didn't move, was almost afraid to breathe.  
  
Then it was over. Harry opened his eyes and gasped, only that it came out as a strange whining sound. Harry jumped at the noise he had produced.  
  
Looking down, Harry noticed that he didn't have hands or feet anymore, he had paws. Quickly, Harry trotted over to the lake and stared into the water.  
  
Looking back at him was a beautiful Grey Wolf with blazing emerald green eyes, just like Harry had wanted it to be.  
  
Harry's heart leapt in happiness, and it took him a while to register that his tail was wagging wildly.  
  
Harry-wolf yelped in shock and stilled it quickly.  
  
'Right', Harry thought, 'I'd better turn back then.'  
  
The reversed transformation went a lot quicker than the other one.  
  
"Niccccccce going."  
  
A strange voice behind him said.  
  
"Thanksssssss." Harry answered, still grinning.  
  
"HUH?"  
  
Harry whirled around, coming face-to-face with- a giant snake.  
  
It was a Boa Constrictor, from what Harry could see, like the one he had accidentally freed from the zoo almost five years before.  
  
"Oh, hello," Harry hissed, "How did you get here? Aren't you ssssssupposssed to be from Brazzzzzil?"  
  
The snake shook its head indignantly and said,  
  
"Not very bright, are you? I told you before that I have never been to Brazzzzil."  
  
Harry blinked in shock.  
  
"Wait a sssssec. Are you the ssssnake I ssssset free from the zzzzoo almosssst five yearssssss ago?"  
  
The snake hissed its laughter.  
  
"How many Boa Consssstrictorssssss do you know in Britain?"  
  
Harry grinned.  
  
"It'sss great to sssssee you again! But what are you doing here?"  
  
If a snake could puff out its chest, Harry was sure that this Boa Constrictor would have done so now.  
  
"I'm here to bring you a messssage, Harry Potter. And yesssss, I do know your name, all of usssssss ssssssnakessssss do, assssss there are only two humanssssss in the world who can talk to usssssssssssss.  
  
"The dark lord hasssss assssked ussss to fight with him againssssst the light. However, mossssst of ussssss, in fact about 98.5 % of the world sssssnake population, have agreed to sssssstay on the light ssssside and ssssssserve you, not the dark lord. We want to improve the ssssssssnake reputation that hasss been ruined by people like the dark lord.  
  
"We will join the dark lord'sssss army and ssssssspy on him. Every week on Sssssssunday evening at ssssseven o'clock, one of ussssssss shhhhhhhall be here and tell you the newesssssst thingssssssssss we could find out.  
  
Fare well, Harry Potter, may the great sssnake be with you in thissssss fight between the light and the dark ssssside!"  
  
And with that, the snake turned and slithered away into the forest. Harry stared after it dumbstruck, unable to believe what he had just heard.  
  
After a few minutes of sitting there and staring off into space, Harry got up and walked back to the castle, lost in thoughts about wolfs, snakes, dark lords and magical wars.  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
OOOF! That was it! Can you believe it? I never thought I'd write a chapter this long! 26 pages! *collapses in exhaustion*.  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!!!  
  
See ya,  
  
Felinity ^_^ 


	7. Chapter Seven: The Being

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters you may recognise, they belong to JK Rowling!!! I do own the England Quidditch team and the plot!!!  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
Chapter 7  
  
The Being  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
When Harry entered the castle, he noticed that it was almost lunchtime. Harry shook his head in amazement. Time was really flying!  
  
Harry entered the Great Hall and saw that all of the teachers were already there. There was only one vacant seat between Minerva and Hagrid.  
  
Harry walked over quickly and sat down. Hagrid beamed at him and Harry smiled back, but his attention was quickly diverted by his godmother who asked,  
  
"Harry, where were you? We've been looking for you all over the castle!"  
  
Harry looked down at the table guiltily.  
  
"I was outside," he said, "and I guess I just forgot the time. Sorry, I should have told you where I was going."  
  
The stern professor nodded.  
  
"Don't worry about it, Harry. Just don't do it again. What WERE you doing anyway?"  
  
Harry opened his mouth to reply and then closed it again. His mind was racing. Should he tell them about his becoming an Animagus? Would they be angry? Probably not too much, he reasoned, but they might be hurt that he hadn't told them what he was going to do, especially Minerva, because she was the transfigurations professor, and Sirius, who was an illegal Animagus himself.  
  
No, Harry decided, telling his godparents was out of the question. So what was he going to say? And then it his him. How simple! And he wouldn't even have to lie..... much.  
  
"Harry?" Sirius prompted from the other side of the table.  
  
Harry noticed that Dumbledore, Snape and Remus were also listening.  
  
"I..... I was out at the lake when I suddenly heard a sound from the bushes," Harry said, making up this part of the story. "I went closer to investigate, and there was a snake in there."  
  
The adults looked stunned.  
  
"A snake?" Snape asked. "Why would a snake be here on the school grounds?"  
  
"That's what I asked it," Harry said, grinning.  
  
"Asked it?" Sirius seemed stumped. "Are you a parselmouth?"  
  
Harry looked at his godfather in surprise.  
  
"Well, yes," he said, slowly. "But, Sirius, didn't you know? With all those articles in the Daily Prophet last year I would have thought every witch or wizard in the whole world would know....."  
  
Harry trailed off, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. What if Harry's gift of Parseltongue bothered Sirius? What if he was going to mistrust Harry now, like half of the school had in his second year?  
  
Sirius blinked in surprise.  
  
"You mean, that stuff she wrote was actually true? Of course I read the articles, but I thought she was just making everything up."  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
"No, no, most of the stuff she wrote was rubbish," he quickly assured his godfather, thinking of the disgusting article about himself, Hermione and Krum. "But in this last article, the one that said that I was deranged and possibly dangerous, there was some true stuff. One, it is true that my scar hurts sometimes- you know that, and two, I am a parselmouth."  
  
Sirius stared at Harry, looking stunned. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spread over his face.  
  
"You know, kiddo," he said casually, "You never cease to amaze me. Go on with your story."  
  
Harry smiled in relief.  
  
"Well, in order for you to understand this story, I have to tell you something that happened at the Dursleys' more than four years ago. I was ten years old and did not know anything about the magical world. It was my cousin Dudley's eleventh birthday, and we, that is Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley and his best friend Piers were going to the zoo."  
  
"Wait a minute," Remus interrupted. "You mean, they were actually going to take you to the zoo? That seems unnaturally kind of them."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"They weren't going to, you know," he said, "But Mrs. Figg, who was supposed to watch me for the day, had broken her leg and I couldn't come over. And the Dursleys didn't want to leave me at the house all by myself, they thought I was going to blow it up or something."  
  
Remus nodded and Harry went back to his story.  
  
"So, we went to the zoo and after lunch into the reptile house. Dudley and Piers immediately went to the very end of the house, they wanted to see the biggest snakes, the constrictor snakes. I had no choice but to follow them. But the snakes were all sleeping, and Dudley made my uncle try to wake the biggest snake, a Boa Constrictor, by rapping against the glass. When the snake didn't react my cousin decided that she was boring and moved on, and I got to look at the snake."  
  
Harry grinned at the memory and went on, explaining to the professors about his talk with the snake who had told him that it had never been to Brazil. Then he explained about his cousin knocking him to the floor and the glass in front of the snake vanishing.  
  
The adults had a good laugh at Dudley and Piers's antics afterward- Harry wisely left out his punishment for that particular "crime", which had been his longest-ever stay in the cupboard under the stairs.  
  
After they had all calmed down again, Dumbledore said,  
  
"Thank you for this delightful story, Harry, but what is the connection to the conversation you had with the snake just now?"  
  
Harry nodded and explained.  
  
"Well, it turned out that the snake outside on the school grounds was in fact this very Boa Constrictor from the zoo. She told me some interesting things."  
  
Sirius looked stunned.  
  
"It was the snake you met in the zoo four years ago? The odds against that must be enormous!"  
  
Harry nodded, and the others agreed as well.  
  
"So, Harry," Minerva said, "What did the snake want?"  
  
Harry frowned, trying to remember everything the snake had said.  
  
"It said that there were only two Parselmouths in the world- Voldemort and myself. Apparently, Voldemort has asked the snakes to join him, but most of them don't really want to. In fact, the Boa said that 98.5 percent of the world snake population decided to serve me, not Voldemort, because they want to improve the reputation of the snakes."  
  
Remus frowned.  
  
"But won't Voldemort kill the snakes that are unfaithful to him?"  
  
Harry nodded. "He probably would," he agreed. "That's why all the snakes have decided to enter Voldemort's service, but they will spy for me. Since there are snakes present at almost every Deatheater meeting, they will be able to tell me of Voldemort's new plans."  
  
Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"That is wonderful news! This way we will get information on Voldemort's moves even though Severus cannot spy on him any longer and your scar does not work permanently. But, Harry, when are they going to tell you? I'm afraid I cannot allow snakes to enter the castle, the students would panic."  
  
Harry nodded again.  
  
"I know. The Boa said that a snake would meet me every Sunday evening at seven o'clock down at the lake. This way, I'll receive updates on Voldemort every week."  
  
Now, all of the professors who had listened in on the conversation were smiling broadly.  
  
"Well done, Potter," Snape said, sounding and looking pleased.  
  
CRASH!  
  
Everyone jumped in shock. Sirius had toppled off his chair and was staring at Snape with his mouth open.  
  
"You..... you said something nice! To..... to Harry!"  
  
Harry had to snicker, even though he, too, was still getting used to Snape being nice to him. Snape himself just smirked and excused himself from the table, stating that he still had some potions to brew.  
  
Harry helped his shocked godfather to his feet and then he, too, left the hall.  
  
Harry walked back to his rooms alone, only greeting some paintings on the way.  
  
"Ah, Harry! There you are."  
  
Harry looked up into Merlin's face. He hadn't even realized that he had already reached his room. Harry grinned at the portrait.  
  
"Hello Merlin. It's good to see you again. Would you mind opening up?"  
  
Merlin looked apologetic.  
  
"Password first, I'm afraid."  
  
Harry smiled back and nodded.  
  
"Of course. Elven Clearing!"  
  
The portrait swung open and Harry stepped into the room. The little book on Animagi was sitting on his nightstand and Harry picked it up. He got himself a quill and some ink and wrote:  
  
'Hello Merlin. I have transformed!'  
  
'Well done, Harry! I must say, I'm impressed. You're the first  
one to master the transformation this fast!'  
  
'Thank you. Merlin, I have a question.'  
  
'Fire away!'  
  
'Now that I have transformed into one animal, can I transform  
into another?'  
  
'Ah, Harry, it's not that easy. You remember when I told you  
that you just had to envision whatever animal you wanted to  
become inside your mind?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'Well, I'm afraid I was not being entirely truthful.'  
  
Harry stared at the book in shock. Merlin had lied to him?  
  
'What do you mean, you weren't entirely truthful? The  
transformation worked!'  
  
'Yes, yes, of course it did. But, Harry, you didn't choose the  
animal you transformed into. The animal chose you. '  
  
'The animal chose me? But- that's not true! I thought of  
becoming a wolf, and I became one!'  
  
'Yes, Harry. But being a Gryffindor, don't you think it is a  
little strange that you did not want to transform into a lion  
or something like that?'  
  
'..................'  
  
'See, Harry? The wolf chose you. You unconsciously felt the  
wolf's call and obeyed it. It's a good Animagus form, by the  
way, very useful.'  
  
'Ok, so becoming a wolf was not my decision. But then, does that  
mean that I will never be able to transform into any other  
animal?'  
  
'That is a difficult question. Most likely, you will not. Not  
all people can become Animagi, Harry, and for a person to be  
able to transform into several different animals, that is very  
rare. though not unheard of in shape-shifting-Animagi cases like  
you.'  
  
'How do I know if I am able to do it?'  
  
'Well, if I am not mistaken you thought of many animals you  
could transform into, but only the wolf appealed to you, right?'  
  
'Right.'  
  
'If you ever get this feeling with another animal in the future,  
try to transform into them just as you did with your wolf-form.  
But if you ever get the chance, Harry, you must know that it  
will most likely require a lot more concentration and patience  
than your first transformation.'  
  
'Why is that?'  
  
'Because the wolf is your true form, your natural form. It means  
that you like the company of other human beings, are a good  
leader and very protective of your friends. Cautious, but  
curious, silent, but smart, friendly, but dangerous. It fits  
your personality, Harry, better than the other animals. That is  
why it chose you.'  
  
'So any other animal that chooses me won't fit my personality as  
well, and that's why it will be more difficult to transform into  
it?'  
  
'Exactly, Harry. And that is why Multimagi are so rare.'  
  
'Multimagi?'  
  
'Yes, Animagi with more forms than one.'  
  
'Oh, ok. But what about magical animal forms? Can I transform  
into them?'  
  
'Ah, magical animals. Let me tell you, Harry, technically, every  
Animagus can transform into one magical Animagus form and one  
normal form, in your case, the wolf. BUT. Becoming a magical  
Animagus is much more dangerous and much more difficult than any  
other animal.'  
  
'Why?'  
  
'Because the spirit of a magical animal is so much stronger than  
the spirit of a normal animal. It is difficult to master: It  
requires a lot of concentration, a lot of power, and most of  
all, sheer will and strength.  
It is also very painful. And worst of all, most wizards who try  
to master their magical Animagus form go mad.'  
  
'THEY WHAT?'  
  
'They go mad.'  
  
'But..... Why?'  
  
'Because the animal's spirit is too strong for them. Stronger  
than them. This is why it is so dangerous to transform into your  
magical Animagus form. Don't try it, Harry, unless you have  
completely mastered your wolf form. Don't attempt a Magi-  
transformation before that.'  
  
'A Magi-transformation?'  
  
'Yes, the transformation into a magical animal. Magical Animagi  
are called Magimagi.  
They are very rare. In fact, there have only been eight recorded  
Magimagi in the past millennium.'  
  
'Whoa.'  
  
'Whoa, indeed. You would also be the first person to ever be a  
Multimagus AND a Magimagus- IF you master both transformations.  
You would be a Multimagimagus.'  
  
'A Multimagimagus? Is there such thing?'  
  
'Not yet. But I have no doubt that one day someone will manage  
to become one. And I would not be surprised if this someone was  
you.'  
  
Harry stared at the last line. 'I would not be surprised if this someone was you.'  
  
'What do you mean by that? Why would it be me?'  
  
'Harry. You're refreshingly naïve at times. You DO realize that  
you have the potential to be very powerful, don't you?'  
  
'Well, there is that prophecy.....'  
  
'Ah yes, the prophecy. You are going to be a very powerful  
wizard in a few days, my boy. More powerful than even me. If  
anyone has the potential to do what nobody has been able to do  
before, it is you. And now, my young friend, I have to go.'  
  
'You have to go? What do you mean, you have to go?'  
  
'My time here is up, Harry. I taught you everything I could. I  
survived for more than a thousand years to tell you what I did.  
It is time for me to let go, Harry.'  
  
'Let go? What do you mean? I thought this book-'  
  
'Ah, but Harry, I am not simply a book. I am Merlin. As I am  
talking to you, I am sitting in my cave in the mountains, the  
cave I have not left for nearly a millennium. This is not simply  
a diary that contains a small part of my soul, Harry, this is  
me. I am Merlin. I am talking to you through a book similar to  
yours, the two are connected. But I have fulfilled my duty,  
there is nothing I can teach you now.'  
  
'But, Merlin, I am sure that there is a lot-'  
  
'No, child. I had a vision many centuries ago that told me that  
I had to help you, Harry, with your fight against the evil Lord  
Voldemort. This is why I survived. This book was written solely  
to help you, my boy, because I knew that you would find it one  
day. Now that I have fulfilled my purpose, I can finally let go  
and find peace.'  
  
Harry stared at the book. He had grown very fond of Merlin in the three days he had talked to him.  
  
'But, Merlin, does that mean that you're going to die?'  
  
'Yes, Harry, I'm going to die now. Do not be sad, little one.  
Like Albus Dumbledore, a very wise man by the way, once said to  
you: To the well organised mind, death is but the next  
adventure. It is time for me to go now, Harry.'  
  
'No, Merlin, please-'  
  
'I'm sorry, but I have to go. I wish you all the good luck in  
the world in your fight against the darkness, Harry Potter. May  
the light triumph over the darkness again, may the darkness be  
defeated once and for all!'  
  
'Merlin, wait!'  
  
'.....'  
  
'Merlin?'  
  
But Merlin didn't answer again, and in his heart, Harry knew that he was gone, dead, and would not return.  
  
Harry dropped the book to the floor and buried his face in the pillow, letting himself grieve for a while. He knew that he was probably being foolish, but he felt as though he had lost a good friend.  
  
After a while, he sat up again and looked down at the book on the floor. It was glowing with an unearthly, white light, and just as Harry was looking, one last message appeared on the page.  
  
'Be strong for me, Harry.'  
  
Then, just as suddenly as it had entered Harry's life, there was a blinding white flash of light and the book disappeared.  
  
Harry was left staring at the grass floor. Harry nodded grimly.  
  
"I will, Merlin," he whispered to the silent room, "I promise I will."  
  
A breeze rustled the tree canopy above his bed and carried his words away through the open window, blowing them to wherever Merlin, the wisest wizard of all time, was hiding.  
  
~*~  
  
In the mountains surrounding Hogwarts, in a small cave, Merlin heard Harry Potter's promise to him. He smiled and put two identical, blue books into a chest. They had served their purpose well.  
  
Then, the ancient sorcerer laid down on his bed. An unearthly smile lit up his face as he closed his eyes and let his soul wander heavenward.  
  
The cave shook, rocks and stones fell from the ceiling. The magic that had held them in place for centuries was gone. The cave collapsed, burying everything inside of it deeply as the mountain reclaimed the space that had been taken from it almost a millennium before.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry sighed and got up from his bed. It was late, he had already missed dinner and now all he wanted to do was sleep.  
  
He put his clothes on to a chair, knowing that the house-elves would clean them later.  
  
When he had just pulled on his pyjama bottoms, however, there was a knock on the portrait hole and five people stepped in: Sirius, Remus, Minerva, Snape and Madam Pomfrey. Harry beat down a blush when he realized that he was still half naked.  
  
None of the adults seemed to care, however.  
  
"Ah, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said briskly, "Stay like this. I need to give you a last check up."  
  
She pushed Harry down on to the bed and Harry suddenly remembered that he should have gone to the hospital wing a few days before for his last check- up.  
  
He felt a little guilty and did not complain when Madam Pomfrey examined him thoroughly. After about five minutes she straightened back up and nodded.  
  
"Everything's healed nicely. Try not to land in the hospital wing too many times this year, Harry."  
  
With a last stern glance at Harry Madam Pomfrey left the room.  
  
"Potter."  
  
Harry turned his attention to Professor Snape.  
  
"Yes, Professor?"  
  
Snape stepped forward and set a bottle with a swirling blue liquid on to his bedside table.  
  
"This is a modified version of the dreamless sleep potion. It will keep the nightmares at bay but will not prevent any visions. I will make sure that you receive this potion every night."  
  
Harry smiled at his Potions Professor.  
  
"Thank you, Professor."  
  
Snape gave a half smile back.  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
With that, he, too, left the room, and Harry was left alone with his godparents and Remus.  
  
They immediately sat down on the bed around him.  
  
"You look sad,"  
  
Remus observed quietly.  
  
Harry frowned.  
  
"Want to talk about it?" Sirius asked gently.  
  
Harry was about to shake his head but then thought otherwise. 'Oh, to hell with it,' he thought, 'They deserve to know the truth.' So he nodded.  
  
"Does this, by any chance, have to do with what happened today on the grounds?" Minerva asked, and Harry looked at her in surprise.  
  
She smiled.  
  
"You might have fooled the others, Harry, but we have all noticed that you were keeping something from us."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"I'm sorry. I should have told you right away. I just-"  
  
Harry broke off.  
  
Sirius frowned slightly.  
  
"You what?"  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
"I thought you would be angry. Or hurt."  
  
From the corners of his eyes, Harry saw the three adults exchange worried glances with each other. He smiled slightly.  
  
"Before you jump to conclusions," Harry said, looking especially at Sirius, "I better tell you what happened. Here goes."  
  
Harry took a deep breath and started his tale.  
  
"A few days ago at breakfast I said I would go to the library to look something up for my homework, remember? That was the day Mr. Skillridge came to visit."  
  
The three others nodded. That day would stay forever clearly in their minds. Harry continued.  
  
"Well, in the library I happened to come across a strange book. It was rather small and blue with a pretty gold pattern on its back. I felt drawn to it somehow and picked it up. It was written in a strange language I'd never seen before. Then, I felt my scar tingle a bit and looked up, but nobody was in the room except me. I shrugged it off and looked back at the book. Suddenly, the letters had changed and it appeared to be English. The book's title was 'Animagi'.  
  
"I decided to read it, I thought it might come in useful and took the book back to my room with me. By then it was already lunchtime so I forgot about the book and went down to lunch. You know what happened next, Charlie challenged me to a Seeker's competition.  
  
"It wasn't until noon yesterday that I thought about the book again. I spent all day reading up on the subject of Animagi. The book was extremely useful, I could write down questions and it would answer. I found out that it was written by Merlin himself, and that only an heir of Merlin could read it."  
  
Harry paused for a moment, unconsciously looking at the spot on the grass floor where the book had vanished.  
  
"Then, today after breakfast, I decided to try it out."  
  
Remus and Sirius and Minerva gasped.  
  
"You- you tried it? You tried to become an Animagus in two days?!" this came from Minerva. "Harry- are you completely crazy? Do you have any idea how dangerous this was?"  
  
Harry shrunk back on the bed.  
  
"Harry, you should have told someone! It took us three years to learn how to become an Animagus, and even then Peter only managed with James's and my help! You could have got stuck permanently!" Sirius exclaimed, looking shocked, furious and worried at the same time.  
  
Harry tried to shrink back even further, but Remus was in the way. He had been quiet the whole time and placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Now, now, you two," Remus admonished, "Tune it down! You were wondering why Harry didn't tell you everything in the first place and now you're reacting like this? At least give Harry a chance to explain!"  
  
Harry threw Remus a grateful look and his godparents quieted down.  
  
"Now," Harry said, "This book was not like normal books about Animagi, it contained six simple steps how to become an Animagus. It was all about concentration and imagination. More shape-shifting than an actual Animagus transformation, Merlin said. Like I said before you interrupted me, I tried it out this morning down at the lake. It took me almost an hour, though it felt like less time had passed."  
  
"And?" Sirius asked practically squirming with curiosity.  
  
Harry smiled and nodded.  
  
"And what animal did you become?" Minerva asked eagerly.  
  
Harry grinned and turned around to look at Remus.  
  
"My Animagus form," he said softly, "Is a wolf."  
  
There was a brief silence, before smiles broke out on all faces.  
  
"Wonderful, Harry," Remus said, grinning broadly, "You have the best Animagus form possible, that much is clear!"  
  
"Nonsense!" Sirius exclaimed, shoving both Harry and Remus playfully, "The best Animagus form is a dog! But after that, I reckon a wolf is great-"  
  
He was interrupted by Minerva. "Oh no, Sirius, the best would be a cat! But other than that, I agree with Remus and you, a wolf is great!"  
  
Harry grinned at the three, relieved that they were apparently not too angry with him.  
  
After a few more minutes of joking around, the four of them calmed down again. "That still doesn't explain why you looking sad, Harry." Remus said.  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
"Yes, about that. When I came back to my room after lunch, I talked to the book some more- and it told me some interesting things."  
  
"What kind of things?" Sirius wanted to know.  
  
Harry drew his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them and laid his head down on them.  
  
"It seems," he said, "That this book was not actually WRITTEN by Merlin. It was Merlin himself talking to me through a book similar to my own, the books were connected."  
  
There was a brief silence. Then-  
  
"H- Harry, did you say that it was Merlin himself talking to you?" Minerva asked incredulously.  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Harry, Merlin has been dead for- what- a thousand years!" Sirius exclaimed in disbelief.  
  
"No, it was him! He told me that he had lived in a cave all this time, because apparently, when he was about thirty years old, he had a vision about me. He survived all this time just because in his vision he saw that he had to help me!" Harry said vehemently.  
  
The three adults gaped at him incredulously, looking very much like overgrown goldfish, much to Harry's silent amusement.  
  
"He- he spent all this time in a cave because he wanted to help you?!" Remus asked in shock.  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Whoa," Sirius just said, looking awed.  
  
"This is not all," Harry said sadly. "Merlin said that now that he had fulfilled his purpose he could let go. He died tonight."  
  
Silence descended over the room again as the other three bowed their heads. It was a long time before anyone said anything, but it was Minerva who finally did.  
  
"And that's why you were sad?"  
  
Harry nodded and sighed. "I know, it's stupid. It's just that after the three days of talking to Merlin I had begun to really like him, and then he just-"  
  
Remus shushed him.  
  
"You don't need to explain, Harry, we understand completely. However, since it is almost one o'clock in the morning, I suggest that we all turn in. It has been a long day, especially for you, Harry."  
  
Everyone agreed and Harry swallowed the dreamless-but-not-visionless-sleep potion. He felt someone take the cup from his limp fingers and pull the covers over him, then he was fast asleep.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry was flying on the back of a beautiful, giant phoenix. He was soaring over green fields and deep lakes, the wind rushing in his face.  
  
Suddenly, the landscape below him changed. There was a forest, a huge, dark forest. As far as Harry could see there was nothing but trees, wherever he turned. The forest was eerily silent, there was no sound, no owls hooting in the forest, no animals moving about. There was no wind blowing anymore, no movement anywhere, the only things that seemed to be alive were the phoenix and Harry.  
  
They flew deeper, below the treetops, evading trees silently. It was dark there, in the forest, no light seeped through the leaves above, no single sound was heard. The air was thick, Harry had trouble breathing, and there was a lingering uneasiness in the air, an evilness so strong that it was almost palpable.  
  
Just when Harry was starting to get very uneasy he saw something in the distance. A dark spot in the dark night sky, seemingly absorbing what little light the moon and stars were providing. It was so dark, so black that the inky night sky seemed almost bright in comparison.  
  
When Harry and the phoenix flew closer, the spot started to grow, until Harry could finally make out a castle looming against the horizon. It was one of the most terrible sights Harry had ever seen. The castle was black, completely so, and it was almost as big as Hogwarts.  
  
But what was even more intimidating than its size was its aura. The castle seemed to seep with dark magic, it seemed to radiate evilness and misery. One could almost taste the pain of its prisoners in the air, could almost hear their cries of despair.  
  
And Harry knew immediately that he had arrived at Voldemort's hideout.  
  
The phoenix swooped down through one of the windows and dropped Harry on to the plain stone floor behind a giant pillar. Then it flew off again.  
  
Harry crouched safely in the shadows and peered around the corner.  
  
He had arrived in the throne room, the same room he had rescued Snape from a week before. He was even hiding behind the same pillar. The only difference was that this time, there were no Deatheaters in the room.  
  
But there was one person (if you could call him that) sitting on the throne, apparently waiting for someone or something. It was Voldemort.  
  
Harry shuddered as he took in the Dark Lord's appearance. Voldemort was clad in loose-fitting robes of black silk. He was tall, even more so than Harry remembered, and deathly thin. His pale face was more snake-like than ever, his crimson eyes narrowed to mere slits.  
  
Harry gulped. Whoever it was the Dark Lord was waiting for, he did not want to be that person.  
  
Suddenly, Voldemort raised his head and fixed his gaze on the door. Harry thought he had heard something and looked at the entrance as well. After a few more moments of listening with bated breath, Harry was positive. Two people were fast approaching, seemingly arguing about something. Harry recognised the voices.  
  
The first one was the rat, Peter Pettigrew, the traitor of the light side. Harry had to suppress a growl as he longed to throw himself at the filthy bastard.  
  
And the second voice sounded suspiciously like-  
  
BANG!  
  
The door burst open and Lucius Malfoy strode into the hall. Harry caught a small glimpse of Pettigrew who closed the door behind Malfoy. Harry fixed his attention on Voldemort and Malfoy, the only occupants of the room (besides Harry).  
  
Malfoy had thrown himself at Voldemort's feet.  
  
"Forgive me, Master," the man said, "I felt your call right away, but I was attending an important meeting at the ministry, and it was impossible for me to get away soone-"  
  
"SILENCE!" Voldemort hissed venomously, and Malfoy cowered. "What have I told you over and over again, Lucius? Do not speak until spoken to, and DO NOT KEEP ME WAITING!"  
  
Malfoy flinched back. "Forgive me, My Lord, I-"  
  
"DID I ALLOW YOU TO SPEAK?"  
  
Malfoy was cowering on the floor, positively shaking with fear. He dared not rise his eyes to meet Voldemort's.  
  
"You have kept me waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Luciussss," Voldemort hissed, drawing out the 's'. "Surely you would have been able to leave this- meeting- earlier than that?"  
  
Malfoy remained silent.  
  
"ANSWER ME!" Voldemort bellowed.  
  
Malfoy jumped visibly. "N-no, M-my Lord, I-I am most sorry, but Minister F- Fudge attended the meeting, it would have looked suspicious if I had left-"  
  
"Silence!" Voldemort ordered again, which Harry thought to be rather unfair. After all, he had wanted Malfoy to answer him earlier.  
  
Voldemort continued.  
  
"I will not, and I repeat, NOT, tolerate disobedience or tardiness from my Deatheaters. You will be punished accordingly, Luciusss....."  
  
Voldemort waited for a moment to let these words sink in. Malfoy's head snapped up, his eyes wide and fearful.  
  
"Oh n-no, M-master, please don't-"  
  
He never got to finish his plea because at that moment Voldemort raised his wand, pointed it at the unfortunate "criminal", and hissed,  
  
"CRUCIO!"  
  
The curse hit its target, and Malfoy began to scream and writhe in pain on the floor. Harry himself fell to his knees, gasping for breath. His scar was burning so terribly that Harry was sure it would split open any second.  
  
After a few more pain-filled moments, Voldemort lifted the curse and Harry and Malfoy breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Now, Lucius," Voldemort said, "Is everything going accordingly to the plan?"  
  
Harry looked up sharply. Plan? What kind of plan?  
  
"Yes, My Lord," Malfoy answered obediently. "Everything is ready. The Deatheaters have been tested for their loyalty, there are no more traitors. The dementors have agreed to turn against the human Azkaban guards as soon as the Deatheaters arrive, if we give them the souls of all Azkaban inhabitants who are not Deatheaters. The Deatheaters have prepared for the attack, we are all ready, we will attack the minute My Lord says so."  
  
Voldemort nodded, looking pleased. "What about the giants, Lucius?"  
  
Malfoy shifted a bit uncomfortably on the ground.  
  
"I'm afraid the news is not too good, Master," he said, fearfully. "They refuse to join our side."  
  
Voldemort's eyes darkened, his wand hand twitched and he drew in a sharp breath.  
  
"But they are not joining the other side, either!" Malfoy said hurriedly, eyeing the wand nervously. Harry noticed that a thin sheen of sweat had appeared on Malfoy's forehead. "They say that they won't join sides until one of their number was killed or harmed in any way. They are not happy with us because we did not keep the promises we made fourteen years ago, but they are none too fond of the so-called light side either because they banned the giants from their home, Britain. For now, they want to stay out of the fight."  
  
Voldemort nodded again, looking less angry.  
  
"Very well, Lucius," he said, "This is not good news, but it was to be expected. What about the other dark creatures, the werewolves and vampires?"  
  
Lucius shook his head fearfully.  
  
"I do not know, Master. They have not yet answered our requests to join them."  
  
Voldemort frowned, but said nothing. "And the snakes, Lucius?"  
  
Malfoy looked relieved. "Ah, I have good news, master," he said, "As you know, Severus provided me with a temporary Parseltongue Potion before he was..... well..... The snakes have gladly agreed to join the heir of Salsazar Slytherin, just like they did fourteen years ago. They are ready to serve you at your command."  
  
Voldemort looked pleased. "Ahh, yes, I knew that the snakes would be faithful to me, unlike certain other living beings, isn't that right, Luciussss?"  
  
Malfoy squirmed on the ground, mumbling things like, "Never, My Lord,", "I am faithful, My Lord," "I never betrayed you, Master.".  
  
But Voldemort wasn't listening, he seemed to be deep in thought.  
  
"Lucius, tell the other Deatheaters that we will meet on Thursday at four o'clock in the morning here in my castle. I will give further instructions then. We will attack the fortress of Azkaban at dawn!"  
  
"Yes, My Lord," Lucius mumbled and got up, turning to leave.  
  
"Luciussss!" Voldemort hissed. Malfoy stopped dead, recognising this sound of voice all too well.  
  
"Y-yes My Lord?" he asked, shakily.  
  
"Did I give you permission to leave?"  
  
Malfoy swallowed visibly and stammered,  
  
"My Lord, I a-assumed that i-it would be allowed if I l-left to-"  
  
"CRUCIO!"  
  
~*~  
  
Harry shot up in bed with a scream and fell back immediately. His head was on fire! His scar burned so strongly that Harry felt like his head was going to split open. Harry writhed on the bed in agony, his hands clamped over his scar. The pain was getting stronger and stronger by the second-  
  
Harry groaned in pain, everything around him faded to blackness, there was nothing left but Harry and the pure, hellish agony originating from his scar. Harry was dimly aware of some voices calling his name, or maybe he was imagining them?  
  
Harry couldn't see..... he couldn't hear..... he couldn't think..... he couldn't breathe..... he was going insane, he was dying from the agony-  
  
And then it stopped.  
  
Harry lay on the bed, breathing hard. After a few more minutes of calming his breathing, he opened his eyes- and noticed for the first time that he was surrounded by people. There were Sirius, Remus, Minerva, Dumbledore, Snape, Sprout, Vector, Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey. All of them were staring at Harry with pale, shocked expressions.  
  
In the end, it was Dumbledore who broke the silence.  
  
"Harry- are you alright?"  
  
Harry nodded and said weakly,  
  
"I'm fine now."  
  
Madam Pomfrey looked indignant.  
  
"You're most certainly not!" she exclaimed.  
  
Harry was confused. What was she talking about? He felt fine, his scar was only burning a little!  
  
Sirius must have sensed Harry's confusion because he gestured at Harry's forehead and said quietly,  
  
"Harry, your scar."  
  
Harry frowned and brought his hand up to his forehead- it was sticky. Harry frowned and pulled his hand back. It was covered with a strange, red liquid. Blood? His scar was- bleeding?  
  
Madam Pomfrey stepped forward without another word and conjured up a wet washcloth. Then, she began to clean Harry's forehead off blood carefully. After that, Madam Pomfrey pulled out her wand, tapped Harry's scar gently and muttered,  
  
"Consigno!"  
  
Harry felt a pleasant tingling sensation in the skin around his scar, and then the burning in his forehead stopped altogether.  
  
Madam Pomfrey stepped back and left the room silently, followed by most of his professors.  
  
Immediately, Remus turned on Harry.  
  
"Harry, why didn't you tell us that your scar hurts this badly whenever you have a vision?"  
  
Harry looked away.  
  
"It wasn't so bad," he mumbled.  
  
"Harry James Potter!" Harry's head snapped back up to meet the furious, yet concerned gaze of his godmother. "Don't you dare lie to us! Need I remind you that all the Order Council members saw your vision? We all felt the pain of your scar, and even though I am sure that whatever we felt is a mere shadow of what you must have gone through, it was bad enough to rival the Cruciatus Curse!"  
  
Harry grinned sheepishly.  
  
"I- it's never been this bad before," he confessed. "Not even in that vision with Professor Snape. My scar has also never bled before."  
  
Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"Well, Harry, we can't leave it like this, of course. Severus, do you think you could brew a potion to stop Harry's scar from burning, or at least to lessen the pain?"  
  
Professor Snape looked thoughtful for a minute.  
  
"I think I might, Albus," he said quietly. "However, this particular potion is very complicated to brew and I would have to research it first in the library. I know for a fact that nobody has even attempted to brew it for at least a few decades, if not centuries. What amplifies the problem is that I cannot destroy the link of Potter and Voldemort completely, as it is our only source of information on Voldemort, apart from Potter's snakes. It would take at least two weeks to brew the potion, and the problem is that with Voldemort's upcoming attack I most likely won't have the time."  
  
Dumbledore nodded and said,  
  
"Yes, the attack on Azkaban will have first priority for now. Severus, I must ask that you please research Harry's potion as soon as you find the time. Now, as it is only four o'clock in the morning, I suggest that we all try to get another few hours of sleep, tomorrow- or rather today- is going to be a busy day. Good night, everyone."  
  
And with that and a few mumbled 'goodnight's' the adults left Harry's room.  
  
It was a long time, the birds had already started to sing and light was showing on the horizon, until Harry finally fell asleep.  
  
~*~  
  
When Harry woke up again it was already 10.30. Harry yawned and stretched and then dragged himself out of bed. Even though he had slept for a long time, he felt extremely tired. Harry decided to take his customary morning swim and put on his swimming trunks.  
  
The cold water of the Hogwarts lake woke Harry up completely. He swam around for a while and tickled the giant squid's tentacles. The squid gave a strange growling noise which Harry supposed was either laughter or a sign of annoyance and dived down to the bottom of the lake.  
  
Harry grinned and began to swim to the south end of the lake. Even though he had only swum for a few days he found that he had no trouble with reaching the shore anymore. Taking a deep breath, Harry dived through the gap in the rocks and came out in the river in his room. Harry stayed in the warm water for a few more minutes and washed his hair, then he climbed out and dried himself off.  
  
It was quite warm that day, so Harry pulled on a blue pair of muggle shorts and a plain white T-shirt.  
  
Then Harry left his room and went down to the great hall. Nobody was there when Harry entered, but since it was already 11 o'clock, Harry supposed that they had finished eating long before and were busy preparing for Voldemort's attack the following Thursday.  
  
As soon as Harry had sat down at the table, food appeared in the area he was sitting. Harry loaded his plate with a stack of pancakes, poured a generous amount of syrup over it and began to eat.  
  
Ten minutes later he was finished and leaned back in his seat as the table magically cleared itself of food. Harry contemplated what he could do that day. He didn't really feel like flying, he would get enough of that the next day. He had already swum and visiting Hagrid, as well as any of the other Order members, was out of the question. Harry sighed as his mind jumped to the most logical conclusion. He might as well get started on his homework.  
  
Harry stood up and left the great hall. He went up the marble staircases, down three different corridors and came to a standstill in front of a wall. Harry cleared his throat. "Good morning. Would you be so kind as to move aside, sir? I'd like to go to the library."  
  
The wall shook for a while and then moved aside. Harry continued on his way. Down another corridor, up a very spindly wooden staircase, turning left, then right, then left again. Harry tried to open the door in front of him. It wouldn't budge. Harry slapped his hand to his forehead. How stupid of him! He had lived in the castle for four years and still didn't know how to open each door? Shaking his head, Harry raised a hand and knocked on the door.  
  
It swung open immediately and Harry continued on. Down a small staircase, and up a very large one, and finally Harry found himself on the fourth floor. Harry opened the heavy wooden doors in front of him and entered the library. Harry decided that he would do his Transfiguration homework first, in case his godmother asked, and then Potions.  
  
This year, the Transfiguration assignment was : "Write an at least four feet long essay about the process of turning a mouse into a cat. Then compare it to three other Transfigurations you know."  
  
Harry pulled out some heavy tomes on Transfigurations and went back to his room. He dumped the books on his desk, pulled out some parchment, ink and a quill, and set to work.  
  
Surprisingly, Harry found this assignment to be a very simple one. The process of turning a mouse into a cat was long and complicated, and Harry wrote the four feet easily. He leaned back in contentment and read over his essay for another time. It was good, much better than his homework usually was, but something was missing- Harry frowned- and then it hit him. He dipped his quill in the ink so hastily that he almost knocked over the small bottle and began to scribble hastily.  
  
"One of the main reasons for the complicatedness of the process of turning a mouse into a cat is that both the mouse and the cat are living beings. Both of them have their own free will and to turn one into the other one would have to break the animal's will first. Turning a mouse into a cat would be especially difficult because the two animals are natural enemies. The mouse would refuse to be turned into a cat and the cat would protest aganist being turned into a mouse....."  
  
Harry went on about this issue for a while, explaining the danger of stopping in mid-transfiguration. The animal, whether completely mouse, cat, or in-between, would attack the wizard immediately and while those two animals weren't dangerous, bigger animals were.  
  
When Harry had finished, he noticed with shock that he had written six feet of parchment instead of the required four. And he hadn't even started on the comparison yet! And what transfigurations was he going to use..... Harry stared out of the window thoughtfully. He could take the transformation of a tea kettle into a turtle, and a spoon into a pair of scissors. But what to take as the third comparison?  
  
Harry thought about it for a few minutes. The assignment was about the transfiguration of an animal into another. He was going to compare it to the transfiguration of an object into an animal and of an object into another object. What else could he use.....? Of course! It was simple, really. He would compare it to his Animagus transformation!  
  
Smiling, Harry set to work again. Two hours later he had finished. Harry ran a quick spell-check charm over his now ten-feet-long assignment, one of the few spells students were allowed to use over the holidays. There were no mistakes and Harry rolled his homework up and placed it aside contentedly. He couldn't believe that he had written 10 feet! Really, he was turning into Hermione. Harry chuckled when he thought about what Ron would have said to this. Harry checked the clock on the wall (which was imbedded in a tree trunk) and saw that it was 2 o'clock. Harry turned to leave the room.  
  
"Wait a minute- 2 o'clock? It's lunchtime! Have I worked that long?" Harry thought out loud.  
  
The stag that had just walked into his wall threw him a pitying look as if to say, 'Poor chap, now he's already talking to himself!' Harry blushed slightly and left the room.  
  
He walked back down to the great hall. This time, when Harry pushed open the heavy oak doors the hall was not empty. Almost everyone was sitting around the table.  
  
Harry made his way over and slid into an empty seat between Snape and Dumbledore. Most of the people around the table were so distracted by their conversations that they didn't even notice Harry. This included Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus, Minerva and pretty much all of the teachers.  
  
The only one who even acknowledged Harry's presence was Snape. He nodded to Harry and said,  
  
"Good morning, Mr. Potter. I haven't seen you around today, what have you been doing?"  
  
Harry smiled.  
  
"Good morning, Professor Snape. I slept in this morning which is why I wasn't in the great hall for breakfast, and I have been doing my homework up until now."  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow in mock-surprise.  
  
"What subjects?"  
  
Harry shrugged.  
  
"Only Transfiguration as of yet. Though I was going to do Potions when I realized that it was already lunchtime."  
  
Snape nodded and they ate in silence for a while. Then-  
  
"Potter."  
  
Harry looked up from his plate and into Snape's fathomless black eyes, still getting used to the civil Snape.  
  
"Yes, Professor?"  
  
Snape stared at him for a while.  
  
"Would you like help with your Potions?"  
  
Harry blinked, completely taken aback.  
  
"Sorry?" he asked.  
  
"Would you like tutoring in Potions?" Snape repeated, rather patiently.  
  
Harry stared at his professor for a few moments. Snape was offering him help with his homework? But Harry knew that it was a really good idea. He knew that he wasn't good at Potions and maybe private tutoring with a nice(!) Snape would help.  
  
He smiled.  
  
"Sure, Professor, that would be great! Thank you very much. But- don't you have to work for the Order?"  
  
Snape shook his head.  
  
"I already finished what I needed to do. If you are done eating, we could start on your tutoring right now- that is, if you want to."  
  
Harry nodded. The two of them stood and left the hall without anyone noticing. Harry followed Snape down to the dungeons, but Snape didn't lead him to the classroom as Harry had thought he would. Instead, they walked past the door and continued down the corridor.  
  
After a few more minutes of walking in silence Harry recognised the entrance to the Slytherin common room on the right.  
  
"Professor," Harry asked and sped up a little so that he was walking alongside Snape, "Where are we going?"  
  
Snape turned to look at him and said,  
  
"My private quarters. I have a laboratory there which is much more luxurious and comfortable than the classroom. Besides, I have a few books there that I would like for you to read."  
  
"Oh." Harry said and they walked the rest of the way in silence. Finally, they stopped in front of a portrait with a man on it that was undoubtedly Salsazar Slytherin. Harry recognised him from the statue in the chamber of secrets.  
  
"Errare humanum est." Snape said, and the portrait swung aside. It was obviously the password.  
  
Harry stared at his teacher in surprise.  
  
"To err is human?" He translated out loud.  
  
Snape looked at him and sneered, though Harry could tell it wasn't at him.  
  
"I didn't think up the password, the headmaster did. It changes every month, like the common rooms' passwords. And I wasn't aware that you could speak Latin."  
  
Harry shrugged.  
  
"I don't really know a lot," Harry admitted, "But I learnt it for two years in muggle elementary school. I forgot most of it unfortunately, but I can still piece together easy translations."  
  
Snape nodded and they climbed through the portrait hole. Inside, Harry's jaw dropped. The room was nice! It was decorated in mainly blue and cream, instead of the green and silver Harry would have expected. The floor was covered by a thick, fluffy carpet and the stone walls were tinged a light blue. Harry felt as though he had just stepped into heaven, not the dungeons.  
  
An amused snort drew him out of his thoughts.  
  
"What did you expect?" Snape enquired, his left eyebrow raised, "Green and silver and torture devices?"  
  
Harry didn't answer and squirmed uncomfortably as he felt himself blushing furiously.  
  
"I-"  
  
But Snape took pity on him and cut him off.  
  
"Come on. The laboratory is through there."  
  
He put a surprisingly gentle hand on Harry's shoulder and steered his student to the wall on the right.  
  
Harry stared.  
  
"What-"  
  
Snape didn't look at him, he just touched the wall with his fingertips and mumbled something that Harry couldn't understand. Suddenly, magically, a door appeared on the wall. Harry realized that it had to be the secret of Professor Snape's room, his connection to his private potions laboratory.  
  
Opening the door, he gestured for Harry to follow him, and Harry stepped into Snape's private laboratory. Immediately, he felt his jaw drop again. The room was incredible, it was gigantic. The ceiling was high, almost as high as in the great hall. Exquisitely craved pillars supported the ceiling, which was bewitched to look like a night sky, with millions of stars twinkling down upon the two of them. Every now and then a falling star would shoot across the ceiling, Harry could clearly make out the milky way. (A/N: *sigh* Am I the only one who would like to own this room?)  
  
The walls of the room were the same as the ceiling, as was the floor, creating the impression that one had stepped outside and right into space somewhere.  
  
Huge shelves lined the walls, laden with all kinds of different bottles imaginable (all labelled neatly), books (some of whom seemed to be incredibly old), herbs and other potion ingredients and knives, spoons, scales, and everything else one might need for potion brewing.  
  
In the middle of the room there were many tables. On some of them there were kettles, some big enough that a man could comfortably sit inside them, some so small that even a rat might have trouble fitting in. Other tables were full of papers, formulas, quills and ink bottles.  
  
Everything appeared to be very organised and clean, which didn't surprise Harry much as Snape had always made sure that there wasn't a speck of dirt in his classroom.  
  
Even Harry, who wasn't fond of potions making at all, itched to try out some of the devices in this room.  
  
Harry was snapped back to the presence by another amused snort. He realized that his mouth was still hanging open and shut it quickly with an audible click.  
  
"I take it you like this room?" Snape asked with a smirk.  
  
Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off the ceiling.  
  
"This is incredible! I feel like I've stepped into space, or another galaxy!"  
  
Snape nodded.  
  
"Yes, even after all those years this room never ceases to amaze me."  
  
Harry turned to look at his professor questioningly.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Snape smiled slightly.  
  
"You know, this room does not always look like the night sky. Every time I've come down here in the past 15 years, the room has looked different. I must say, the night sky look is one of the best ones yet."  
  
Harry shook his head in wonder. The magical world would never cease to amaze him.  
  
"So, what was the worst thing this room ever turned into?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
Snape frowned distastefully.  
  
"A muggle discotheque. I kept messing up my potions because of all those flashing lights."  
  
Harry snorted at the mental image.  
  
Snape clapped his hands together and said briskly,  
  
"Right. Now, Mr. Potter, I've watched you in Potions class many times and I've noticed that even though you follow the instructions precisely most of the time, hardly any of your potions turned out the way they should be. The problem is that you never understood the basics, like most of the students at this school."  
  
Harry blinked. He was not sure if he understood what Snape was trying to tell him. Snape sighed, seeing Harry's confusion.  
  
"Let me give you an example."  
  
Snape walked over to one of the shelves lining the walls and pulled out a medium-sized book. Vaguely, Harry recognised the seventh year Potions course book. He had seen it with Oliver Wood occasionally.  
  
Snape set the book down on the table in front of Harry and opened it on page 53. The title read "Draught of the Living Dead". Harry remembered his very first Potions lesson when Snape had questioned him about this very potion. And it was in a seventh year book?!  
  
Snape must have noticed Harry's offended expression because he sighed.  
  
"I apologised, Potter, alright?"  
  
Harry just nodded. Snape continued.  
  
"Alright. By the list of ingredients and instructions you see here, can you tell me how to brew this potion?"  
  
Harry read over the instructions and list of ingredients. They were long and complicated, some of the ingredients Harry had never heard of before.  
  
"Well," Harry said, "I would wait until the water in the kettle was boiling and then add the Flobberworm essence. Then powdered root of asphodel and the crushed Manticore fangs. Then the potion would have to simmer for five minutes and then I'd add the infusion of Wormwood and-"  
  
But Snape sighed and closed the book.  
  
"And so you're making my point for me," Snape said, not unkindly. "You cannot simply add the ingredients in the order they are listed on the page."  
  
Harry was shocked.  
  
"You cannot?" he asked, confused.  
  
"No," Snape repeated, "There are certain..... hierarchies in potion brewing. For example, you never add a liquid without adding at least two solids before that. And, if you're brewing a potion containing both parts of an animal and a plant, always add a herbal ingredient first."  
  
Harry blinked, taken aback.  
  
"Oh. I didn't know that. Are there many- hierarchies like that?" He wasn't sure if he would be able to keep a lot of those rules.  
  
"Countless. But don't worry, once I explain to you why the ingredients are added the way they are, you're going to find potion making easy, I won't even have to tell you the rules for every new potion anymore. So let's get to work."  
  
In the following three hours Harry learned more about potions than he had in his entire life at Hogwarts. To his great surprise, Harry found that Snape was right. With his Potions professor explaining every potion he brewed, Harry found that he could get them right on the first try. For the first time in his life Harry discovered that there was logic behind the (originally) confusing recipes. Snape just smirked when Harry told him that.  
  
After three hours of hard work, Snape declared that it was enough for the day. He gave Harry three books on the basics of potion making to read and told him that they would continue tutoring as soon as Harry had read them. Harry thanked him and stumbled back up to his room. He hadn't noticed it before, but the concentration on his work had made him quite tired.  
  
Harry gave Merlin his password and entered the room. He quickly decided to take a bath in the river and shed his clothes. Then, without even bothering to put on his swimming trunks, Harry jumped into the river. He swam around for almost twenty minutes, enjoying the warm water and making sure to get rid of all the potion fumes.  
  
H climbed out of his river and quickly dried himself, putting on some fresh clothes. Before Harry could decide what to do next, there was a tapping on the window. Harry walked over and opened it, allowing the miniature owl that had been waiting outside to fly in.  
  
Harry grinned when he recognised Pig, his best friend Ron's owl. Using his seeker reflexes, Harry snatched the tiny owl from the air and untied a letter from the ecstatically hooting Pigwidgeon.  
  
Harry carried the hyperactive feather ball over to Hedwig's bowl of water and gave him some owl treats. Hedwig rustled her feathers disapprovingly but did not complain. Harry stroked her soft head for a while and she seemed to calm down.  
  
Then he plopped down on the bed and unfolded Ron's letter.  
  
Dear Harry,  
Hi mate! I hope you are fine. Dad told us you were at Hogwarts,  
but he didn't tell us why. Did the muggles do something?  
Anyway, the reason I haven't written to you earlier is that we  
are in Romania! We're visiting Charlie and his friends. You  
won't believe what kind of dragons they have here! I've met a  
certain Hungarian Horntail you might remember from last year,  
her eggs have hatched now and the young ones are still really  
small. Did you know that they called one of the babies 'Harry'  
because of you?  
  
Harry stared at the last line. They had named one of the little dragons after him?  
  
And what's even more unbelievable: I've met Norbert again! He's  
a full grown Norwegian Ridgeback now, and he seems to be really  
happy in his colony. Tell Hagrid he says hello! Other than that,  
you wouldn't believe the chaos here. Fred and George haven't  
stopped their Weasley Wizard Wheezes, on the contrary. They're  
inventing new stuff every day, they even got Percy to eat a  
canary cream! It was hilarious! Percy was running around the  
house chasing them for half an hour after that, even Mum had to  
laugh.  
Ginny has locked herself in her room since this morning, the  
twins tricked her into eating a new invention of theirs, 'Troll  
Cookies'. She'll have green skin and warts and yellow teeth for  
twelve hours!  
Mum was really mad at Fred and George, she's still yelling at  
them.  
I wonder where they got the money to invent all this stuff? They  
said that they have found a sponsor who has given them a  
thousand galleons, but I don't believe them. I mean, who'd be  
crazy enough to give Fred and George that much money?!  
  
Harry had to grin. Good thing that Ron didn't know that he was the twins' sponsor!  
  
Well, however they got it, I'm glad they did. They bought me new  
dress robes, dark blue with golden lining. They're really cool!  
Dad, Bill and Charlie have been gone a lot this summer. They  
won't tell me where they go but I have heard Dad say something  
about 'Order business'. Do you have any clue what that means?  
I wonder how Hermione is doing? I haven't got an owl from her  
yet. But then again, she's probably in Bulgaria visiting  
'Vicky.'  
I have to go now, mate, mum's calling for lunch. She's done  
yelling at Fred and George.  
Do you think you could come to Diagon Alley on August 28th?  
Your friend,  
  
Ron  
  
Harry quickly got out some quill, ink and parchment and started on his reply letter:  
  
Dear Ron,  
Thank you for your letter! Yes, I'm spending the summer at  
Hogwarts. Something happened at the Dursleys' house, but I'd  
rather not talk (write) about it. Sorry, mate, give me some  
time, maybe I'll tell you once the school year starts.  
Snuffles and Moony are here, too! They say hello, by the way.  
I'm glad to hear that Fred and George are inventing new stuff, I  
have a feeling that we are going to need laughs more than ever  
this year with Voldemort on the rise! Those 'troll cookies'  
sound really nasty, do you know any of their other stuff? Just  
so that I'll be warned..... Besides the Canary Creams, of course.  
And you say that someone has given them a thousand galleons?  
Whoever did that must have been crazy!  
  
Chuckling, Harry paused for a while. He knew that he couldn't tell Ron and Hermione about the Order of the Phoenix or himself being part of the Order Council, it was supposed to be a secret.  
  
As for your Dad and Bill and Charlie, yes, I've seen them around  
here at Hogwarts. I don't exactly know why they are here, but I  
think they are running some errands for Professor Dumbledore. It  
probably has something to do with Voldemort's return.  
Everything is fine around here, I spend most of my free time  
either flying, swimming or doing homework. No, I'm not turning  
into Hermione, I just don't have anything better to do!  
The most amazing thing has happened, Ron! I found out that  
Minerva McGonagall is actually my godmother! I was so shocked in  
the beginning, but now I'm really happy. I actually have  
godparents!  
And Snape is being nice. Don't look so shocked, he told me why  
he treated us Gryffindors, and especially me, so badly for the  
last few years. I'll tell you about it when me meet! We're  
getting along really well now, Snape even tutors me in Potions!  
  
Harry paused again, thinking. Should he tell Ron about Merlin's book and his Animagus-transformation? And about his place in the English National Quidditch team? But knowing Ron, he would probably be jealous again..... No, he wanted to keep all of that a secret.  
  
I think going to Diagon Alley on the 28th will be fine, if  
anything happens, I'm going to owl you.  
Your friend,  
  
Harry  
  
Harry tied the letter to Pig's leg with some difficulty and said,  
  
"Take this back to Ron for me, will you?"  
  
Pigwidgeon hooted happily and flew out of the window.  
  
Harry watched him with a small smile.  
  
A glance at the clock showed him that it was only six o'clock, too early to go downstairs to the great hall for dinner. Harry's gaze fell on his desk and on his Potions textbook. With a mental shrug, Harry decided that he might as well start on his Potions homework now. They had actually got two summer assignments from Snape that year, the first one was,  
  
'Write an at least three feet long essay about the twelve different uses of dragon's blood!'  
  
It was actually a rather simple assignment, Harry thought. The twelve uses of dragon's blood had been discovered by Albus Dumbledore himself, Harry knew that much from the back of Dumbledore's chocolate frog card.  
  
So, for the fourth time in three days, Harry found himself in the library. Harry shook his head at the thought. Hermione would be proud of him.  
  
Harry walked along the endless shelves in the area labelled 'Potions' and scanned the book backs for promising titles. He had to walk to the very end of the shelf until he found the perfect book:  
  
"The twelve Uses of Dragon Blood, by Albus Dumbledore."  
  
Satisfied, Harry picked up the book and headed back to his room. He plopped down on his bed and started to read the book. It was actually very interesting, and soon Harry found himself so entranced by the book that he forgot all about dinner.  
  
According to the book, Dragon blood could be used to create poison, or eliminate it; it was used in several complicated healing potions; if mixed with aconite it could give the drinker super strength for 24 hours; if a person bathed in Dragon blood they would be literally invulnerable; Dragon blood could form a strong protection shield against any curse except for Avada Kedavra; if given willingly by the dragon, it could be drunk and would keep the drinker alive for months without food or water; if mixed with asphodel and wormwood it would strengthen magical powers threefold; if used in a memory potion, the person using it would be able to remember every little detail in their life from their birth up to the present; if drunk by a muggle, it could give them magical powers for up to a month; if drunk by an animal and its 'master' it would allow the two to communicate for a week; and finally, it could bring a person or an animal back to life if it was administered within ten minutes of their death, provided that the death was not caused by an unforgivable curse or natural causes.  
  
"Ahem."  
  
Harry gasped and jumped so violently that he toppled off the bed and onto the grass floor. "Ouch!" Harry grumbled to himself and scrambled to his feet again. He brushed off his clothes and looked up.  
  
Three concerned grown-ups were looking back at him. Minerva, Sirius and Remus were all staring at Harry.  
  
"Um- hi." Harry said sheepishly.  
  
"Gosh, Harry," Sirius said, looking amazed. "Do you always greet your visitors like that?"  
  
Harry had to grin.  
  
"No, Sirius," he said earnestly, "Only if they sneak up on me when I'm engrossed in a book."  
  
Sirius grinned back and plopped down on the bed next to Harry.  
  
"What were you reading, anyway?"  
  
Harry marked the page and shut the book, letting Sirius see the cover.  
  
"'The twelve Uses of Dragon Blood'. And you found this so interesting that you didn't even notice us enter the room?" Sirius asked doubtfully.  
  
Harry had to laugh at his godfather's expression.  
  
"It actually IS very interesting! Did you know that dragon blood can even bring people back to life if it is administered within ten minutes of their death, provided that it was not caused by Avada Kedavra and was not due to natural causes?"  
  
Sirius blinked owlishly. "Er- no. No, I didn't."  
  
Harry grinned. "See, Sirius? That's because you haven't read this book."  
  
Harry noticed that the professors seemed to be highly amused by their little exchange.  
  
"Why are you here, by the way?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
"You didn't show up for breakfast, lunch, or dinner," Minerva answered. "Neither of us have seen you all day. We were concerned that something might be wrong."  
  
Harry smiled weakly. It felt good to have people worry about him, but he was not really used to it.  
  
"What were you doing all day, Harry?"  
  
Harry shot his werewolf-friend a grateful look.  
  
"Well, I didn't come to breakfast because I slept in. When I reached the great hall, it was empty. After breakfast I decided to do some homework, so I went to the library and got the books I needed and then returned here."  
  
Remus interrupted.  
  
"And you have been reading 'The twelve Uses of Dragon Blood' all day?" he asked incredulously. It took Harry a moment to work out what Remus meant.  
  
"Oh no!" he exclaimed. "Of course not! Actually, I did my Transfiguration assignment first- I finished at 2 o'clock, just in time for lunch. So, I went down to the great hall. All of you were too busy with your conversations to notice me, the only one who acknowledged me was Professor Snape."  
  
Now the adults were positively stunned.  
  
"You were in the great hall? And we didn't see you?" Minerva asked.  
  
Harry nodded patiently.  
  
"Yes. Professor Snape asked me what I had been doing all day and when I told him that I had been doing homework he offered to help me with Potions. I agreed and we went down to his private laboratory."  
  
Harry paused for a moment, remembering the beautiful room. He completely ignored Sirius' muffled noises of protest- muffled because Remus had clamped his hand securely over Sirius' mouth. Minerva sat down on the bed on his other side.  
  
"I spent the next three hours brewing potions, who would have thought that there was actually logic behind those recipes!" Harry shook his head, still unable to believe it. "After three hours, Professor Snape said that it was enough for the day, and I went back here. It was too early for dinner, so I decided that I could do my Potions homework next, so I went to the library and checked out this book. I completely forgot about the time."  
  
"Yes, we can see that." Minerva said with a slight smile. "What do you say, Emrys, do you want to come to the kitchens with us for a late supper?"  
  
Harry looked up in surprise.  
  
"You haven't eaten either? Then how did you know that I hadn't been down in the great hall for dinner?"  
  
Sirius grinned.  
  
"Actually, the greas-"Sirius earned himself a warning look from both Professors McGonagall and Lupin. "-Snape told us. He left the great hall just as we entered the entrance hall, so we asked him if he had seen you at dinner. When he told us that he hadn't, we came here immediately, but you didn't notice us. Seems that our presence had a rather- well- stunning effect on you."  
  
The three laughed and Harry swatted at his godfather. Everyone agreed whole- heartedly to a 'late supper', as Minerva had called it, and so the five of them soon found themselves in front of the portrait of a bowl of fruit leading to the kitchens. Harry tickled the pea, which giggled and squirmed, and then the portrait opened.  
  
Harry made to step in and suddenly noticed the silence. He turned around and saw that all thee of the adults were staring at him: Minerva disapprovingly, Remus with a slight smirk and Sirius with pride in his eyes and a broad grin on his face.  
  
"Harry," Minerva said slowly, "May I ask how you, a student, know the way into the kitchens?"  
  
Harry squirmed uncomfortably.  
  
"Uh-"  
  
Remus saved him again.  
  
"I believe that Harry can tell us that while we are eating, right, Harry?"  
  
Harry smiled in relief.  
  
"Yes, Remus."  
  
The four of them entered the kitchen, but before anyone could say or do anything, a small brown blur shot toward them and attached itself to Harry's legs. Harry stumbled and would have fallen, but Remus quickly steadied him.  
  
"Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!"  
  
Vaguely, Harry's mind registered who was currently squeezing the air out of him.  
  
"Do-Dobby?" Harry gasped breathlessly.  
  
Finally the overenthusiastic house-elf released Harry.  
  
"Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter has come to visit Dobby! Dobby does not deserve Harry Potter's kindness, sir, Harry Potter is noble and brave and-"  
  
Harry groaned in embarrassment.  
  
"Dobby," he interrupted quickly, "Do you think that you could make us some dinner, please?" Dobby had tears of happiness in his eyes.  
  
"Oh! Harry Potter, sir, is so kind to Dobby! Of course Dobby will make Harry Potter and Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin and Mr. Black dinner! Right away Sirs and Lady!"  
  
Dobby hurried away and began to usher the rest of the kitchen staff around. Harry inwardly breathed a sigh of relief and plopped down in one of the chairs. It was only then that he noticed the laughter of his three companions.  
  
"Haha, very funny!" he mumbled, feeling annoyed.  
  
"Aww, Harry," Sirius laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulders, "You have to admit that it WAS funny!"  
  
"If you say so."  
  
Dobby and four other house-elves soon began to load the table with food. After they were done, a small feast was on the table. All five of them dug in happily, Harry told the people he considered his family above all others about S.P.E.W. . They were all amused, though they did think that Hermione had a point. After dinner and another embarrassing (for Harry) and amusing (for everyone else) encounter with Dobby, Minerva excused herself, while Sirius and Remus escorted Harry to his room.  
  
A goblet with a swirling blue liquid was sitting on Harry's bedside table. A note lay beside it. Harry picked it up and read:  
  
Mr. Potter,  
  
You were not at dinner, so I decided to leave the potion here.  
It is you usual dose of dreamless sleep potion- like before, it  
will not prevent visions.  
  
Professor S. Snape  
  
Harry smiled. Sirius and Remus sat down on the bed and waited while Harry changed into his pyjamas and brushed his teeth.  
  
Then Harry jumped on to the soft bed himself and squeezed in between Sirius and Remus. They got up and each hugged him 'goodnight'.  
  
"You need to take the sleeping potion now, kiddo. Tomorrow will be your first training session with the English Quidditch team!"  
  
Harry jumped.  
  
"Oh! I forgot."  
  
Sirius smiled and ruffled his hair affectionately.  
  
"Doesn't matter. You really need to sleep now, Harry. We'll see you in the morning."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Good night, Sirius, good night, Remus!" he said and gulped down the contents of the goblet. He felt someone lift him up and place him under the covers, then a hand brush away the bangs from his forehead, and then Harry was fast asleep.  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
Harry woke up to the sound of birds singing outside and in the forest on his wall. He yawned and stretched and petted the stag that had stuck his head through the wall right above Harry's head for a short while. The stag seemed to enjoy the petting because he closed his eyes and gave a low, contended growl.  
  
After a few moments, he nudged Harry's hand gently and withdrew his head, sprinting across the clearing and out of Harry's sight.  
  
Harry yawned again and got up slowly. He shed his pyjamas and jumped into the river. The icy cold water woke him up immediately. Harry smiled and took a deep breath, the he dived under his wall.  
  
Splash. Harry had landed in the middle of the lake again. The sky was blue and the sun was shining brightly, there was not the tiniest bit of wind. Harry grinned happily and fooled around in the water for a while before he swam to the south end of the lake and dived back into his room.  
  
When he was just climbing out of his river, someone knocked on the portrait hole.  
  
"One minute!" Harry called and quickly dried himself off and slipped on some muggle clothes.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
The portrait opened. Harry waited for a moment, but nothing happened. Was it supposed to be a joke? Suddenly, Harry began to feel very uneasy. Something was wrong, he could feel it.  
  
"Who's there?" Harry called. He did not like how shaky his voice sounded. No answer came. Slowly, heart pounding loudly in his chest, Harry began to approach the portrait hole. It still looked as though someone was holding it open, but there was nobody there!  
  
An idea suddenly struck Harry. What if it was somebody wearing an invisibility cloak? Harry felt relieved immediately. He crossed his arms and said,  
  
"Ok, you got me. You can come out now."  
  
Nothing happened. Harry started to feel uncertain again. What if this was not a joke? Harry bit his lip and extended a hand to where the person holding the portrait open had to be standing. There was nothing but air. Fear started to rise in Harry's throat as he slowly backed away.  
  
BAM! Harry gasped and whirled around. The window had flown open, and an unnatural gust of icy cold wind went around the room. Harry started to shiver, feeling panicked. He did not like this, he did not like this at all!  
  
"Wh-whoever you are, show yourself!" Harry tried to call, but it came out as a terrified whisper.  
  
CRASH.  
  
Harry let out a soft scream whirled around again. The portrait had closed. The uneasiness and coldness in the room intensified. For a moment Harry was sure that he could hear someone laughing a high, cold, evil laughter. It chilled Harry to the bone, and he was starting to get hysterical.  
  
"STOP!" he yelled, almost near tears, beside himself with fear.  
  
And it stopped. From one second to the other, the unnatural wind died down. The temperature returned to normal. Harry could hear the birds singing outside, and the sun was shining down innocently.  
  
The only reminder of what had just happened was the window that was still open, and the pounding of Harry's still racing heart.  
  
After his breathing had returned to normal, Harry shakily approached the portrait hole again. He put a hand on the back of the portrait. Nothing happened. Harry pushed the portrait open carefully and climbed out. There was nobody in the hallway. Harry released the portrait and it swung shut with a soft *thud*.  
  
"Good morning, Harry!" Harry gasped and nearly jumped out of his skin, before whirling around.  
  
It was Merlin who had spoken, and he was currently eyeing Harry with concern.  
  
"Is anything wrong, Harry? You're not usually this jumpy and you were looking around as if you expected someone to be here-"  
  
Harry stared at the portrait.  
  
"Wait a minute!" he exclaimed. "What do you mean? Don't you remember what happened?"  
  
It was Merlin's turn to look confused.  
  
"What happened? Harry, nothing happened. What should have happened?"  
  
Harry frowned.  
  
"There was somebody holding your portrait open! Or rather, there was nobody! That's just the point! Someone was opening your portrait hole but no one did! And you didn't see anyone here?"  
  
Merlin was staring at Harry.  
  
"Harry, are you sure you're alright? I assure you that the only person who has opened me today is you! Maybe you should go and see the school nurse-"  
  
But Harry wasn't listening. He was so sure that something had just happened! But then why couldn't Merlin remember anything? Had he, Harry, been hallucinating? But no, he had heard someone knock on the portrait, and it had opened!  
  
*But the portrait was closed afterwards.* an annoying little voice in Harry's head said.  
  
Harry had to admit that this was true, but the window had still been open!  
  
*It could have been the wind,* the little voice said matter-of-factly.  
  
Harry frowned. There hadn't been any wind while he had swum in the lake!  
  
*Well, the weather changes, doesn't it,* the voice commented off-handedly.  
  
Doubts started to stir in Harry's mind. What if he had imagined everything? Maybe he had overtaxed himself this morning in the lake, or the water had been too cold. Or maybe he shouldn't have swum with an empty stomach. Harry remembered his PE teacher in muggle elementary school saying something along those lines.  
  
But it had seemed so real! Harry shook his head firmly. He must have imagined everything.  
  
*But what about the laughter?* his mental voice piped up again. Harry mentally glared. *Shut up, you! I thought you didn't want me to believe that something happened!* Now the little voice sounded offended: *I didn't say that!*  
  
Harry groaned loudly.  
  
"Oh, great," he mumbled, "Now I'm having an argument with a voice in my head. Isn't hearing voices nobody else can hear a bad sign? And now I'm talking to myself. Harry, you're losing it."  
  
Harry shook his head to clear away his thoughts and suddenly realized that he had been standing unmovingly in the hallway in front of Merlin's portrait for a good five minutes. And that Merlin was looking at him as though he was about ready to call for the wizarding equivalent of an ambulance (whatever that was- a broom formation?).  
  
Harry sighed and shook his head.  
  
"Well, see you later, Merlin!" and he dashed off in the direction of the great hall without waiting for an answer.  
  
On the way, Harry suddenly realized that later that day he would have his first training session with the English National Quidditch Team! Harry's heart skipped a beat and he sped up. All memories of what had happened earlier that morning were erased from his mind.  
  
**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************  
  
A/N: Ok, folks. Actually, this chapter was supposed to be much longer- it's only Wednesday (in the story) and it was supposed to go on until at least Friday! But it has been such a long time since I last updated that I thought I shouldn't keep you waiting much longer. And even now the chapter is already 38 pages long!  
  
Ok, thanks to everyone who reviewed!  
  
See ya,  
  
Felinity ^_^ 


	8. Chapter Eight: The Attack on Azkaban

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers  
  
Disclaimer: All the characters that you recognise belong to JK Rowling!!! I own Rhianna Lupin and Jake Warrington and the English National Quidditch Team (as well as their coach) and the plot!  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
Chapter 8  
  
The Attack on Azkaban  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
When Harry finally reached the great hall, he was out of breath. The way from the teachers' wing to the great hall was quite long, and Harry had run the whole way. He pushed open the heavy oak doors and entered. Everyone else was already there. They smiled at him.  
  
"Ah, Harry!" Dumbledore exclaimed jovially, "I trust you slept well?"  
  
Harry grinned.  
  
"Very well, thank you, Professor."  
  
Harry sat down between Professors Snape and Dumbledore. The former gave him a slight smile.  
  
"Good morning."  
  
Harry returned the greeting and helped himself to some scrambled eggs and bacon. After the morning's swim and excitement, he felt ravenous.  
  
However, after only a few bites, Harry began to feel queasy. The thought of the upcoming Quidditch practice hit him full-on..... Suddenly, Harry found that he felt revolted by the very idea of eating anything. He pushed his plate away and leaned back with a sigh.  
  
"Nervous?"  
  
Harry's head snapped up and Harry found himself staring into his potions professor's black eyes. Harry sighed.  
  
"Actually, yes." Professor Snape smirked and patted Harry's arm.  
  
"I'm sure you'll do fine, Mr. Potter. I have seen many people fly in my life, and I have yet to meet anyone who is better than you. Not even your father, Harry, who, even I will admit that, was amazing at Quidditch, was as good as you."  
  
Harry smiled slightly and blushed.  
  
"Thank you, I guess," he said softly. He actually felt a bit better. The food on his plate didn't look as bad anymore either..... Harry tucked into his food with renewed appetite. Snape just shook his head, smirking to himself.  
  
After breakfast, Harry decided to go back to his room and do some of his homework. He got himself some books on potions from the library and started on that summer's second assignment: 'Compare the efficiency, side-effects and history of at least three different truth potions, name each of their advantages and disadvantages, write down the whole recipe for each of them.'  
  
Harry sighed. A long and boring assignment. Harry's stomach did a strange flip-flop when he glanced at the clock. It was 10.30! In only four hours Mr. Skillridge was going to collect him. Harry bit his lip and tried to concentrate on his essay.  
  
"One of the most efficient truth potions in existence is the Veritaserum-" Harry wondered what the other players would be like?  
  
"Veritaserum has been known to be strong enough to break even the Imperius Curse-"Harry really hoped that they weren't going to shun him because of his age- but no, Mr. Skillridge wouldn't allow that, would he? Harry gritted his teeth. "Concentrate....."  
  
"This is why Veritaserum has been used mainly in the time of Voldemort's reign-"Would he really be good enough to play on the team? What if Mr. Skillridge had made a mistake? Surely the other players were all much better than Harry and most probably knew more moves than him- Harry began to feel more and more anxious.  
  
"One of the most dangerous side-effects of Veritaserum is..... -"Harry blinked and looked down at the paper and at what he had just written. He cursed and crumpled the parchment, throwing it into a corner in frustration. He glanced at the clock again. It was 10.45!  
  
Harry groaned in despair and plopped down on his bed facedown. He heard the portrait hole open, but ignored it. Not much later, he felt a gentle hand on his back.  
  
"Nervous?"  
  
It was his godmother.  
  
"Yes." Harry admitted, his voice muffled by his pillow.  
  
Two surprisingly strong hands turned Harry over almost effortlessly. Harry sighed as he looked into Minerva's face.  
  
Minerva simply smiled at her godson.  
  
"Why don't you try to do some homework?"  
  
Harry sighed again, thoroughly frustrated.  
  
"I tried! But I simply couldn't concentrate! Here, read this!" Harry jumped up in agitation and retrieved the crumpled parchment from the corner and handed it to his godmother.  
  
Minerva smoothed it out and read aloud:  
  
"One of the most efficient truth potions in existence is the Veritaserum. Veritaserum has been known to be strong enough to break even the Imperius Curse. This is why Veritaserum has been used mainly in the time of Voldemort's reign. One of the most dangerous side-effects of Veritaserum is the Wronski Feint-"  
  
She stopped and stared at the parchment. Then the corners of her mouth started to twitch. Then she laughed. She wasn't the only one, either. An amused snort drew Harry's attention away from his godmother to the edge of the portrait hole- Professor Snape had also entered the room.  
  
Harry frowned moodily and plopped back down on to the bed.  
  
"Yeah, that's right," he said bitingly, "Have a good laugh at my expense."  
  
Minerva obviously tried to stop laughing and hug Harry, but Harry could still feel her shaking with silent amusement and pulled away quickly, feeling thoroughly annoyed.  
  
"Oh, Harry," Minerva said, "We weren't laughing at you, just about you. That's a big difference."  
  
Harry just frowned.  
  
"Fancy a game of chess?" This came form Professor Snape, who was watching the teenager carefully. Harry considered this offer. He wasn't really all that good at chess, but it would take his mind off things.....  
  
"I guess," Harry said, and pushed himself up from his bed.  
  
He walked over to his shelf and pulled his chessboard down, putting it on the table. He and Snape both took a seat on the comfortable chairs and Minerva conjured a third chair up for herself. They all set up the chessboard. Harry chose the white figures, so he had to make the first move.  
  
"I'm warning you," Harry said, grinning at his Potions Professor. "I'm absolutely hopeless at chess."  
  
Professor Snape just smirked.  
  
"Then we'll have to remedy that."  
  
(A/N: I have absolutely no clue about chess, I won't describe the game very closely, sorry!)  
  
They played for almost half an hour. Actually, Harry realized, that was longer than he had ever lasted against Ron. Strange, Professor Snape seemed to be a very good player. After the third time Snape could have beaten Harry but let the opportunity pass, Harry broke the silence.  
  
"Alright. That wasn't the first time you could have won this game. Why didn't you checkmate me?"  
  
Severus had to grin. Clearly, the boy wasn't stupid.  
  
"Simple. I didn't want to end the game so soon. I want to know your weaknesses and understand your strategy so that I can help you improve. I think I've got it now."  
  
Harry looked down at the chessboard with a puzzled frown.  
  
"So you're going to end the game now?"  
  
Snape nodded. Harry stared some more.  
  
"Oh!" Harry slapped his forehead.  
  
Both professors chuckled, and Severus moved his knight, effectively blocking Harry's king's last way out.  
  
"Checkmate."  
  
Harry sighed and shook his head.  
  
"I told you, I'm hopeless at this game."  
  
Snape smiled and shook his head.  
  
"Actually, Mr. Potter, you're not that bad," he ignored Harry's disbelieving look, "I say by the end of the holiday you will be able to beat Mr. Weasley."  
  
Harry snorted.  
  
"Yeah right," he mumbled, ignoring his godmother's reproachful look at his disrespectful attitude. But Professor Snape just smirked.  
  
"You'll see, Mr. Potter. You'll see."  
  
Harry sighed and ran a hand over his face wearily.  
  
"Whatever you say, Professor." Harry glanced at the clock and groaned. It was 11.15- still three and a quarter hours till Mr. Skillridge would pick him up!  
  
Harry slumped in his seat, feeling the nervousness in his stomach grow again.  
  
"Let's go for a swim." Professor Snape suggested.  
  
Harry looked at him in surprise. He somehow couldn't picture his Potions Professor swimming.  
  
"I already-"Harry began, then stopped himself. "Never mind. Don't you have things to do, preparing for the attack, brewing potions for the infirmary.....?"  
  
"I already told you yesterday," Snape said, "I finished my preparations yesterday morning. I'm free all day."  
  
"Oh," said Harry. "Right then. Er, Minerva, are you coming, too?"  
  
But Minerva shook her head determinedly.  
  
"Harry, my Animagus form is a cat for a reason. I detest swimming." Harry had to grin and waved goodbye as his godmother left the room with a smile.  
  
"Professor, do you-"But Harry broke off again, seeing that Snape had already conjured himself up a pair of (black) swimming trunks.  
  
"You change in here, I will use the bathroom," Professor Snape said, and Harry nodded. He changed quickly into his swimming trunks and then jumped into his stream. Not much later, Snape joined him.  
  
"Shall we?" the professor asked, and Harry nodded. They both took a deep breath and dived under the wall.  
  
*SPLASH* *SPLASH*  
  
Harry gasped for breath.  
  
"Oh- geez- that-"The water was cold!  
  
Severus regarded the boy with a smirk. He was used to the coldness, after all he lived in the dungeons. Not the warmest place in the castle.  
  
"Your excellent command over the English language never ceases to amaze me, Mr. Potter," Snape commented and started to swim.  
  
Harry gaped at the quickly retreating form of his Potions Professor.  
  
"Oh, you!" And with that, he hit his hand down on the water hard, effectively drenching Snape's head thoroughly. The professor whirled around. A strange light- was it mischief?- Harry had never seen before was shining in Snape's eyes as he, too, hit his hand on the water and drenched Harry.  
  
What followed was nothing short of a full blown water fight. Harry was soon gasping for breath, having swallowed a lot of water in his laughter, and held up his hands while treading water.  
  
"Alright, alright! I give up! I surrender!"  
  
Snape laughed and swiped his wet hair from his eyes.  
  
"Come on, then, let's swim around for a bit, or we'll be cold." Harry grinned back and nodded, and together they swam a lap around the lake- which was a lot. After that, Harry felt exhausted. Snape seemed to notice and insisted that they take a break.  
  
Harry and Snape climbed out of the water and lay down on the grass in the sun. The gentle, warm breeze dried them quickly, while they chatted about various things, such as potions (after reading the books Snape had given him, he had come to the conclusion that potions weren't so bad after all).  
  
After a while, Snape raised his hand and muttered a short spell ("Tempus!"). Numbers appeared in the air, shimmered for a second and dissolved into nothingness again.  
  
"We should return to the castle," he remarked calmly, "We've been out here for a long time. It is almost one o'clock, they will be serving lunch soon."  
  
They returned through the passage to Harry's room, changed into their normal clothes and made their way to the great hall together.  
  
Again they were the last ones to arrive. Harry took the seat between his godmother and Dumbledore, and Snape sat down next to Flitwick and Remus.  
  
"So, Harry," Minerva asked, "Had a nice swim?"  
  
Harry smiled and nodded.  
  
"Yeah, we completely forgot the time." They ate in silence for a while, Harry began to feel more and more queasy by the second. It was the way he felt before every Quidditch match.  
  
"Harry," Professor Dumbledore's voice brought him out of his reverie, "You will have to take the knight bus back to Hogwarts tonight. After the...... unpleasant happenings at the third task-"  
  
Harry winced.  
  
"-I have put up wards around the school. No portkeys can be activated on the school grounds, and nobody can get here using a portkey. Apparating is, as I am sure your friend Ms. Granger has told you on numerous occasions, out of the question. Flooing to and away from Hogwarts is impossible. Normally, Mr. Skillridge would bring you back, but he is otherwise occupied this evening..... The knight bus is really the only way left for you to get here."  
  
Harry nodded. He was not looking forward to a ride with an over- enthusiastic Stan Shunpike, but it couldn't be helped. He finished his meal in silence.  
  
The queasy feeling in his stomach intensified. Harry felt like there must be entire groups of dragons romping around in there. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and pushed his plate away. He doubted that he had ever felt so nervous in his life before. It was half past one. Harry wondered when time had started to pass that slowly.  
  
He shook his head and with a sigh as he got up from his chair and left the hall. None of the adults held him back, they seemed to understand that he wanted to be alone for now. Harry decided to take a long walk on the school grounds. He walked around the castle and into the gardens. Harry realised that he had hardly ever been to the gardens before and took his time to look around.  
  
The place was beautiful, raw magic seemed to hum in the air. The castle was rather far away, looking very much like a picture in a muggle fairy tale book. The garden Harry was standing in was rather neat. The paths were straight and bordered by white, smooth boulders. The grass was neatly trimmed, the hedges cut, flowers grew in square formations in the flowerbeds. Everything was straight, neat, in order.....  
  
The garden was a piece of art. It reminded Harry too much of the Dursleys' garden. Harry didn't like it. He frowned slightly and moved on. One garden followed another, and another, each differed a little from the last. Harry walked for what felt like hours, all the gardens were perfect, too perfect in Harry's opinion. Harry was just about to give up and return to the castle when he spotted something in the distance. There was a gigantic hedge around the last garden.  
  
It was taller than even Hagrid and completely nontransparent. Harry had apparently reached the end of the Hogwarts grounds. With a disappointed sigh, Harry turned away- when something caught his eye. A slight glitter was in the hedge, where a stray sun ray was touching it. It looked like- metal of some kind. Curiously, Harry stepped closer.  
  
He examined the hedge closely. From a distance, it had looked completely solid. But now Harry noticed that at the bottom of the hedge, there was a small hole- well, not a hole exactly, but the branches were definitely not as dense as the rest of the hedge. Harry touched the leaves at that place. To his surprise, the hedge parted a little. Harry stepped through the gap in the leaves- and gasped.  
  
There, right before him, was a big, squiggly, iron gate, ornamented with gold. Harry approached the gate cautiously and curiously. For some reason, he could not see what was on the other side. A strange, magical mist was blocking his view. Harry hesitated. It could be dangerous to go in there, otherwise the garden wouldn't be separated from the others by an iron gate and hidden behind a hedge.  
  
The grass in this place was not cut- it was almost up to Harry's waist. Upon closer examination, Harry noticed that there was moss growing on the gate. It looked like nobody had been there in ages.  
  
But for some reason, Harry felt drawn to the place behind the gates. The mist that was wafting around Harry's feet didn't feel dangerous, it felt magical, inviting, compelling...... Harry looked over his shoulder. He could not see the castle anymore. Harry slowly put a hand on the iron gate. He hesitated again, looking at his watch. It was only two o'clock. He still had some time.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed at the gate. At first, nothing happened. Harry frowned slightly and pushed harder. Was the gate locked? But then, just as Harry was about to give up, the gate moved a little. It screeched in its angles, protesting against being opened for the first time in who knew how many years. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the two parts of the gate swung aside.  
  
The strange, magical mist swirled around Harry's knees. Harry drew his wand and took another deep breath. Then, he stepped forward. Cool mist surrounded him, wafting gently around him. Harry couldn't see anything. Fear gripped Harry's heart, and he turned around, fully intending to leave the creepy place as quickly as possible. Harry turned around himself for a few times, thinking that he must have lost the way- but the gate was gone.  
  
Before Harry had any time to properly panic, a voice sounded behind him. Harry whirled around again.  
  
In the air in front of him, there was an odd, golden light. It was bright, but it did not blind Harry. For some reason, Harry couldn't tear his gaze away from the light. Then, it spoke again, in a sweet, gentle voice.  
  
"You are new here. Please state your name."  
  
Harry blinked in shock.  
  
"Ex-excuse me?"  
  
"Please state your name," said the light.  
  
"I'm- Harry," said Harry, feeling stupid for talking to a light. "Harry Potter."  
  
The light twinkled a little. Still, Harry could not tear his eyes away from it.  
  
"Harry Potter," the voice spoke again, "You have requested entrance to the Realm of the Four. To be granted permission to seek out this place, you shall have to prove yourself."  
  
Harry frowned. Obviously, there had been a misunderstanding. He had not requested permission for anything.  
  
"Wait!" Harry called as the light started to fade away. "You've made a mistake! I-"  
  
But suddenly, his surroundings changed. Harry found himself in a cold stone cell. The room was completely bare, save for three slightly raised platforms. On the first one, there was a big spider. On the second one there was a small, cute kitten. On the third one there was a magnificent unicorn.  
  
Harry stared at the animals. None of them were moving, yet all of them seemed to be looking at Harry- even the spider. Harry frowned. What was he supposed to do? As if understanding his predicament, a faint glow appeared in the air. Words spelled out in front of Harry's eyes, shimmering softly in the dimly-lit room.  
  
"Harry Potter, you have requested entrance to the Realm of the Four.  
  
In order for us to allow you into this magical place, you need to complete this challenge:  
  
A knight's true virtue is chivalry-  
  
Yet those who fight must always see  
  
That mercy is often a cowardly play,  
  
That you need to kill to get your way.  
  
The strength of a knight is not only his skill,  
  
But also his ruthless preparedness to kill.  
  
So your task to gain entrance to our place  
  
Is to kill the creatures in front of your face.  
  
If you fail, we shall send you back to the gate  
  
And ignorance of this place shall be your fate.  
  
If you succeed in this task all your dreams shall come true  
  
And our knowledge and power shall be open to you.  
  
So since this privilege is what you ask,  
  
Prove that you're worthy by fulfilling this task!"  
  
Harry gaped at the words above his head. He was starting to feel really, really angry. Crossing his arms over his chest, Harry glared slightly.  
  
"Now listen here," he said quietly to the empty room, "You've got to be kidding me! First, you drag me off to this stupid place and say that I have requested permission to enter some stupid realm when all I've done is open a bloody gate, then you want me to kill something?! You must be out of your mind! I will not kill any of those animals in font of me, not even the spider, and I don't ever want to enter your crazy realm if I have to kill anything to do so! Just let me go back to Hogwarts and we'll all be happy!"  
  
The golden glow appeared again in front of his eyes, the letters shifting to form two simple words.  
  
*You Passed.*  
  
Harry blinked, feeling stupid. Had he missed anything? Just as quickly as he had arrived in the strange dungeon, however, he was whisked away and reappeared in the misty place he had left a few minutes before. The bright golden glow was still hanging in the air in front of him.  
  
"Welcome, Harry," the gentle voice spoke, "To the Realm of the Founders."  
  
A slight wind picked up, and the mist around Harry lifted. Harry gasped and stared around in awe. He was in another garden, but this garden was not at all like the others. The grass and flowers were growing wildly and completely untamed all over the place. Small animals of all kinds, some of which Harry had never seen before, were flying and crawling around.  
  
A bit further away, trees were growing around a crystal clear lake, and a stream was running into the lake. Harry followed it with his eyes, but he couldn't see its source. The garden had to be gigantic as Harry couldn't see any borders. Far away, he could dimly make out the shape of a big building. Not as big as Hogwarts, but still immense. Harry's feet practically itched to walk around the garden and explore, to see what kind of building was looming in the distance.  
  
Harry glanced at his watch and cursed slightly. It was twenty past two. Mr. Skillridge would arrive to collect him in ten minutes. Looking back over his shoulder one last time and vowing to return to the place later to explore it, Harry opened the gate again and slid out. The gate closed noisily behind him- which alerted Harry to his next problem. The gap in the hedge leading to the Hogwarts gardens had sealed itself.  
  
Harry growled angrily. He crouched down in front of the thick hedge and examined it closely. He quickly found what he was looking for. Sticking his hand through the leaves, the hedge parted once again. Harry wondered what kind of spell there was on it- it reminded him of a muggle sensor. He straightened quickly and stepped back into the Hogwarts gardens. A quiet rustling sound behind him told Harry that the gap in the hedge had vanished again.  
  
Harry looked at his watch another time. He had eight minutes. Cursing under his breath, Harry broke into a run. Garden after garden flew past. Harry gritted his teeth. Somehow, the distance had seemed to be much shorter when he had covered it for the first time. Finally, the familiar shape of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry loomed in the distance.  
  
Harry sped up, ignoring his protesting muscles. He made it on time, just barely. It was one minute to half past two when Harry burst through the entrance doors of the castle, completely out of breath. Professor Dumbledore stood in the entrance hall, smiling calmly.  
  
"Ah, Harry," he said pleasantly, "Just on time. Go and fetch your broomstick, I will wait for John." It took Harry a moment to realize that John had to be Mr. Skillridge's first name, then he nodded and went up the marble staircases towards the teachers' wing.  
  
Harry hurried through the halls, at a more civilised pace than before. He took every shortcut he knew of and managed to reach his room in only five minutes.  
  
"Elven Clearing." Merlin swung open without a comment, seemingly sensing Harry's urgency. Harry scrambled into his room and grabbed his Firebolt, then left again. He hurried back to the entrance hall.  
  
On his way, he encountered his godparents and several other professors who all wished him good luck and said that they hoped he would have fun. By the time Harry reached the entrance hall he was almost fifteen minutes late and felt a little guilty.  
  
Neither Mr. Skillridge nor Professor Dumbledore seemed to mind, however, because they were both smiling at him warmly.  
  
"Harry!" Mr. Skillridge exclaimed happily, "It's so good to see you again. Are you ready to go?"  
  
Harry smiled back.  
  
"Of course. Um, I'm sorry I'm late, but-"  
  
Mr. Skillridge cut him off immediately.  
  
"Oh, not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry. We still have plenty of time."  
  
Harry nodded, feeling relieved.  
  
"Harry," Harry looked up. It was Professor Dumbledore speaking. "I have to leave now and prepare for the attack on Azkaban tomorrow. I am sure that you will have a great time!" With a wink to Harry and a handshake for Mr. Skillridge, the wizened old headmaster left the hall. Harry turned his gaze back on Mr. Skillridge.  
  
He was smiling at Harry with a twinkle in his eyes that reminded Harry uncannily of the headmaster himself.  
  
"Well, shall we?" Mr. Skillridge produced a small stone from his pocket. It was the portkey. Harry bit his lip nervously. Memories from the Triwizard Tournament came rushing back.....  
  
"Are you ready?"  
  
Harry shook himself and gave Mr. Skillridge a tight-lipped smile. Taking a deep breath, he put a finger on the portkey. Mr. Skillridge took out his wand and tapped the stone twice. It glowed golden for a second, then went back to normal.  
  
"Quidditch Stadium." Mr. Skillridge mumbled, and they were whisked away.  
  
Harry got the familiar feeling of a hook behind his navel, and then his feet slammed into the ground. Recovering from the shock of the impact, Harry looked up slowly. It was amazing. He was standing in a gigantic Quidditch stadium. Harry recognised it, it was the stadium he had been in the summer before at the Quidditch World Cup.  
  
The grass was dark green and perfectly trimmed (probably by magic, Harry thought) and the stands were deserted. Harry could clearly see the top box from his place on the lawn and smiled when he remembered last year's game.  
  
"Ready for the grand tour?" Harry jumped slightly. He had almost forgotten about Mr. Skillridge.  
  
"Um, sure," Harry said, still looking around curiously. Mr. Skillridge smiled and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, leading him on one side of the stadium and through a door.  
  
"Harry, these are the locker rooms. We also have a mess hall here, and, of course, bathrooms. There are also dormitories, in case a game lasts so long that the players need to sleep for a while. Thankfully, we have only been forced to use them twice in the past ten years."  
  
"I thought this stadium was built specially for last year's World Cup?" Harry asked.  
  
"It was magically transferred here, actually," Mr. Skillridge corrected. "Transferred and enhanced. The stadium itself has existed for many years, but it was not big enough to host an event as important as the International World Cup Finale. Its previous location wasn't safe enough either- too close to a muggle town. We couldn't risk the exposure of our world for a game of Quidditch."  
  
"There must have been games before, though," said Harry.  
  
Mr. Skillridge smiled grimly.  
  
"Not as many as you might think, Harry, and not of such importance. Sadly, the English National Quidditch Team hasn't been up to par for a while. This season is our biggest chance in..... many years."  
  
They were walking down a hallway with many doors on both sides, Mr. Skillridge explaining to Harry what was behind each of them. Finally, they stopped in a spacey, circular room. Eight doors were leading from it.  
  
"This, Harry," Mr. Skillridge said, "Are the dormitories I told you of earlier. Your room is on the far left. Feel free to decorate it in whatever way you want, but make sure not to leave anything too permanent behind. It's two minutes to three o'clock now, the others should be arriving anytime-"  
  
As if to prove this statement, a strange, bell-like sound echoed through the room. Mr. Skillridge smiled at Harry's startled face.  
  
"That, Harry, were the Apparation wards. They have been taught not to let anyone they don't recognise through, so you needn't worry. Ah, Alex- right on time, I see!"  
  
Harry watched nervously as a tall, tanned man in his late twenties with dark brown hair and soft brown eyes appeared in the middle of the room, grinning at his coach. Alex McDougal was built like Harry imagined a Keeper had to be built: Tall, broad-shouldered- but not fat. He looked like a nice man to Harry.  
  
Harry noticed that Alex' attention was fixed on him. Harry started to feel slightly uncomfortable, wondering what he was supposed to do. Mr. Skillridge saved him.  
  
"Alex, I have told you about Harry being our new Seeker, he just arrived a few minutes ago. Harry, this is Alex McDougal, our Keeper."  
  
Alex smiled at Harry cheerfully and grabbed his hand in a strong grip.  
  
"Harry! Such a pleasure to meet you! Welcome to the team." Harry smiled at the Keeper and relaxed slightly. Alex' happiness was sincere, he could tell.  
  
"Thank you, -"Harry stopped and hesitated. What should he call the man? Technically, it seemed silly to Harry to call a team member by their last name. But still, Alex had to be almost twice as old as Harry-  
  
"Call me Alex, Harry, We're on the same team after all." Harry smiled and nodded, and Alex released his hand.  
  
Mr. Skillridge was grinning cheerfully at the two of them.  
  
"Right. Alex, I was just showing Harry around, we were almost done. If you want, you can go ahead and-"  
  
The bell rang again. Harry turned to look at the middle of the room curiously and a bit nervously. Alex seemed to be really nice, he just hoped that the other team members were like him! With a slight popping sound, two women appeared in the room.  
  
One of them was tall, slim, with light brown, curly hair and warm, chocolate brown eyes. She looked to be about Alex' age.  
  
The other woman was almost a head shorter than the first one, not much taller than Harry. She had light blond hair and brown eyes that looked as though she was always smiling.  
  
"Harry," Mr. Skillridge said, "This"- he pointed to the brown-haired woman- "Is Samantha Strey, one of our Chasers. Sam, this is Harry, our new Seeker."  
  
Samantha stepped forward and shook Harry's hand, a friendly smile on her face.  
  
"Harry, it is so good to meet you. Call me Sam, all my friends do." Harry smiled back, liking Sam immediately. She seemed more quiet to him than Alex and the other woman, but her face showed nothing but honesty and openness. Before he could reply, Alex diverted his attention again by dragging him over to the other new arrival. She was grinning broadly and didn't even wait for Mr. Skillridge to introduce Harry, she grabbed his hand firmly.  
  
"Harry! Spiffing to finally meet you! I'm Ann Lee, by the way, one of the Chasers. It's great that you are on the team now, I was the youngest before. Now the others can't tease me anymore!"  
  
She grinned at Harry in a way that suggested that she wasn't serious. Harry grinned back, deciding that Ann was really nice and would be a good friend.  
  
"It's good to meet you, too!"  
  
Within the next five minutes, Harry was introduced to the other three members of the team;  
  
Gill Kane, one of the beaters, a tall, dark brown-haired, blue-eyed woman in her late twenties, who reminded Harry a bit of his godmother, but was much less strict and had a great sense of humour. She greeted Harry with a firm handshake and a friendly, sincere smile.  
  
Jean Iron, the other beater, who looked to be about twenty-five years old, had black hair like Harry, and grey eyes that seemed to be sparkling with mischief. He reminded Harry somewhat of Fred and George with his stocky build, though he was still quite tall.  
  
The last arrival was a blond-haired, blue-eyed man about Alex', Gill's and Sam's age, the third Chaser on the English National Quidditch Team, who was introduced to Harry as Matthew Curdigan. Both of them greeted Harry just as friendly as the others had, and Harry was beginning to feel at home with the team. Harry realised that Mr. Skillridge must have talked to the team before he had met them and told them not to create a fuss about meeting the 'famous Harry Potter', and he was grateful for it.  
  
When everyone was finally assembled and properly introduced, Mr. Skillridge clapped his hands.  
  
"Right. Let's go straight to practice. Everyone, change clothes in your rooms and then go straight to the field and wait for us."  
  
It was only then that Harry realized that he didn't have his uniform yet. Mr. Skillridge steered him into a small room Harry hadn't noticed before. A single table stood in the room, and on the table lay what had to be Harry's uniform.  
  
It was a blue pair of loose pants, a white, long-sleeved shirt (which had his name on it) and a silver cloak. The clothes were brand new and in Harry's opinion looked awesome.  
  
"Put them one," Mr. Skillridge instructed patiently after allowing Harry to stare for a while. "They are training clothes. For the actual games, you will wear other ones."  
  
Harry came out of his daze and complied quickly. The clothes were slightly too big for him. Mr. Skillridge waved his wand in a complicated star figure and muttered something Harry did not understand. He felt an odd, tingling sensation, and then the uniform fit perfectly.  
  
Mr. Skillridge grinned at Harry's astonished face. "It's a charm that makes your clothes fit perfectly. It will make sure that your clothes are always the right size even as you grow. And now, let's get outside on to the field, I bet the others are waiting. Oh, and Harry- when no one but the team and the Hogwarts staff is around, call me John. The whole team does."  
  
Harry nodded and followed Mr. Skillridge- John- back through the hallway and on to the Quidditch Pitch. The other players stood in a loose circle in the middle of the pitch, laughing and joking together. They noticed Harry and John's approach and fell silent, smiling at their youngest team member.  
  
"Alright, team," John said, "We'll start with training your stamina, as usual. Do five laps around the pitch, slowly!"  
  
Harry and the others started off. After only two laps (Quidditch pitches were big!), Harry thanked his lucky starts that he had always been good at sports in his old muggle school and that he had taken up swimming every morning three weeks before and that he played Quidditch at Hogwarts..... otherwise, he would not have been able to keep up with the other players. As it was, he managed well, and by the end of the five laps was just breathing slightly harder than them.  
  
"You're doing wonderfully so far," Alex remarked as they slowed to a stand in front of their coach. "Most new arrivals don't manage those five laps without falling behind the rest of the team. I didn't." Alex smiled at Harry, and Harry smiled back, deciding that he really liked the Keeper.  
  
"Alright!" John called. "Good work everyone. Now, mount your brooms, we're doing a bit of Chaser/Keeper practice."  
  
Everyone mounted up and flew to their places on the pitch- everyone but Harry, who was staring at his coach in confusion.  
  
"Um, Mr. Ski- I mean, John, what does Chaser/Keeper practice mean?"  
  
John slapped his forehead.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry! I almost forgot that you are new here. Chaser/Keeper practice means that all the members of the team are Chasers, and one is Keeper. The "Chasers" are all on the same team and will pass the Quaffle to each other until everyone has had two shots at the goal, then the next person becomes Keeper.  
  
"I make it a point to train everyone to play every position, because it could be, and has often been in the past, useful in a game. Have you ever played Chaser or Keeper before?"  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
"Not really," he admitted. "Just in a few games with my friends."  
  
"No matter, then you will learn now. Mount your broom and fly to that free spot beside the top box. Just do your best Harry, no one will bite your head off if you make a mistake. Oh, and watch out for Bludgers, they are still on the game."  
  
"Alright," Harry answered, feeling a little nervous. He kicked off from the ground and quickly took his assigned position.  
  
"Everyone ready?" John called from the ground. When he received seven affirmatives, he blew his whistle and threw the Quaffle into the air. Alex was playing Keeper, and Sam caught the Quaffle. She quickly passed it on to Jean, who passed it to his fellow Beater Gill, who threw it at Harry.  
  
Harry surprised himself by catching the Quaffle easily. It came naturally to him, like catching the Snitch had. He quickly shook himself out of his daze and passed the Quaffle to Ann, who was in a good position to score. She caught it deftly and threw it at the right goal hoop. It was a very good throw, Harry could tell, even Angelina, Katie and Alicia weren't that good, but it was still not good enough for Alex, who was there in a flash and blocked the Quaffle.  
  
The game continued like that for a while. Harry discovered that, while he liked playing Seeker better, he loved playing Chaser as well. It was a fun game with the pace gradually picking up, until the Quaffle was almost a red blur in the air. Alex blocked most of the shots, there were only two he let pass. Suddenly, Harry realized that he was currently in a good position to score. Matthew, who had the Quaffle, noticed it as well and threw the red ball in Harry's direction. Harry caught it, aimed at the left goal post and threw. The Quaffle sailed through the air and right through the hoop, which emitted a metallic 'pling!'. Alex, who had been on the other end of the hoops, never stood a chance.  
  
Harry was extremely surprised to find out that he was good at playing Chaser. He wasn't as good as the real chasers, but better than most of the Chasers at Hogwarts- though maybe not Angelina, Alicia and Katie either. After a while, it was Harry's turn to play Keeper. Gill threw the Quaffle at him and Harry managed to catch it, barely. He felt a little winded and shocked by the force behind the shot, but he guessed that it was Gill's Beater skills showing through.  
  
All in all, Harry performed decently well as a Keeper. It definitely wasn't his favourite Quidditch position, but at least he managed to block about half of the shots. After almost an hour, Harry was beginning to grow bored, and he could see that the other players were as well. Right on cue, John blew the whistle again and the team descended to the ground.  
  
John was regarding Harry with a strange gleam in his eyes.  
  
"Well done, everyone," he said smiling broadly, "That was an excellent practice. Harry, congratulations. You're a natural at Chaser and Seeker. Let's see how you perform as a Beater." Harry could feel himself turning red, suddenly glad that there was no petty jealousy on the team.  
  
"Alright, team," John said, "Get yourselves a club, Beater practice is next." The task this time was to form a circle and to keep the two Bludgers in there. Harry performed well, but he was glad when Beater practice was over. He much preferred playing Seeker, Chaser or even Keeper.  
  
After that, John called them to the ground again.  
  
"Well done, team. And now, it's time for Seeker practice! I'll release the Snitch, and all of you will try to catch it first. Ready? Go!"  
  
Harry kicked off again, feeling excited and a little nervous. He flew high above the pitch, higher than the other players, like Oliver Wood had always told him, and began looking for the Snitch. Twice, he thought he had seen it, but both times it was just a flash of gold reflected from one of the players' watches.  
  
After ten minutes, just as Harry was beginning to grow a little bored, he caught another flash of gold. This one came from the other end of the pitch. Harry strained his eyes and dropped a little lower- and there it was. The Snitch was hovering near the ground on the opposite goal posts.  
  
None of the other players had seen it yet. Casually, slowly, Harry flew closer to the other end of the pitch. The other players were closer to it than he was, he knew that he didn't stand a chance should they spot the Snitch first. Finally, he was only about fifty feet away from the Snitch- but Ann and Gill were still in his way.  
  
Suddenly, Harry was struck by an idea. He whipped his broom around as if he had seen something and dived toward the ground. He could hear six brooms turning sharply in midair and then heading after him at full speed. Harry flew a little slower, allowing them to almost catch up with him- the ground came closer and closer- about three feet above it, Harry pulled up sharply and shot off in the direction of the goal posts where the Snitch was really hovering.  
  
He could hear shouts of surprise and dismay behind him and had to fight back a grin. They had all fallen for his trap. Harry grabbed the Snitch easily and flew back to the rest of the team, who were all sitting on their brooms hovering in midair and gaping at him in surprise.  
  
The sight was so hilarious that Harry burst into fits of laughter.  
  
Ann moaned in dismay. "Can you believe it? I just fell for an abysmally old trick performed by someone who is ten years younger than me!" Jean nodded.  
  
"Ten years? Make that fifteen!" Gill exclaimed, receiving affirmation from Alex, Sam and Matthew.  
  
Matthew stepped forward with a big grin on his face and slapped Harry on the shoulder.  
  
"Welcome to the team again, Harry my boy, that Quidditch World Cup is as good as ours!"  
  
The other team members cheered and congratulated Harry as well. Harry's cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much.  
  
When they had all calmed down, John stepped forward again. He shook Harry's hand warmly.  
  
"Well done, Harry, I knew I wouldn't regret offering you a place on the team. Today's practice is almost over, guys, let's play a game of real Quidditch and then we'll call this practice quits! Get on your brooms, chop- chop, I'll release the Bludgers and conjure up the opposite team!"  
  
The next half-hour was spent playing the best Quidditch match Harry had ever seen. He had never had so much fun in his life before, the practice opponents were charmed so that they were always just slightly better than the real team. In the end, Harry caught the Snitch another time, and they won this game and left the pitch in good spirits.  
  
His new team members slapped Harry on the back or shook his hand or even ruffled his hair- much to his indignation- as a good-bye, then they all apparated away. Harry smiled up at his coach. John slung an arm around Harry's shoulders and guided him back to the changing rooms.  
  
"Harry, I wanted to thank you. This is the best practice the team has had in ages. You boost the team's spirit."  
  
Harry blushed at the praise and mumbled that it was nothing. John just smiled and ruffled his hair affectionately. Why did everybody insist on doing that? There was a twinkle in his coach's eyes that reminded Harry very much of Dumbledore. Harry wondered if the two of them were in any way related, not even realising that he had spoken aloud.  
  
John laughed at the question.  
  
"Actually, yes," he smiled, "But it takes most people much longer to figure it out. Albus and I are second cousins, twice removed." Harry was astonished, he hadn't actually thought it to be true.  
  
They stopped walking when they were standing in front of the Quidditch Stadium. John shook Harry's hand warmly.  
  
"I'll see you again on Friday, Harry, practice is from four to eight o'clock, I will be in the entrance hall at 3.45, alright?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Of course, John. I'll try to be on time next time."  
  
John chuckled and then held up his hand. There was a resounding 'BANG' and the Knight Bus appeared. Harry was relieved that there seemed to be a new conductor, he hadn't been looking forward to meeting Stan Shunpike again.  
  
Mr. Skillridge payed the driver for Harry's ride. Harry was embarrassed and tried to protest, but John would have nothing of it.  
  
"Harry, you are on the team now, and you are still a minor. I am responsible for you as long as you are here, and I have to see to it that you get home safely. Especially since you are Harry Potter and I gave Albus my word. He would have my head if anything happened to you." John declared half-seriously, half-jokingly.  
  
Then he sent Harry on his way. The ride on the Knight Bus was long and boring. A seemingly endless stream of witches and wizards needed to be transported to their destinations, which were very far in-between. Harry realized quite suddenly just how exhausted he was after that day's excitement and almost fell asleep numerous times. When he finally arrived at Hogwarts, it was half past ten and dark outside. The bus stopped right in front of the gigantic iron doors leading to the Hogwarts grounds.  
  
"Thanks!" Harry called out to the driver as he picked up his broom and jumped to the ground.  
  
The iron gate opened on its own when Harry approached. He stepped through, and it shut with a horrible creaking sound. Harry stood still for a while. He had never been on the Hogwarts grounds alone at night before. It was silent, safe for the sound of the wind blowing, the rustling of the leaves in the wind, and the hooting of owls in the nearby forest. Harry remembered the rumours of the animals that were supposed to live in the forest and remembered his encounters with the Acromantulas, the giant spiders.  
  
He shuddered, the exciting, familiar feeling of adventure sending shivers down his spine. Harry chuckled softly to himself. One would think that with everything that had happened in the past four years he would have had enough of adventures.  
  
Still smiling, Harry started his walk towards Hogwarts. The castle was growing in the distance. Harry enjoyed the silent walk back to the only place he had ever considered home in his life, breathing in the clean, fresh, cool air of the summer night and watching the millions of stars twinkling in the sky. He sighed contentedly. It had been one of the best days of his life. 'Definitely good enough for one hell of a Patronus,' Harry thought to himself and grinned.  
  
He reached the Hogwarts front doors soon and pushed them open. The entrance hall was deserted. Harry shrugged and went to open the great hall doors, assuming that everyone would be in there. But the great hall was deserted as well.  
  
Harry frowned slightly, feeling just a little disappointed that nobody was waiting for him. He scolded himself for being so stupid, but somehow he had thought that someone would at least wait for him in the great hall, if not at the front gates. They were probably already in bed..... after all, it would be a busy day with the attack and everything.  
  
Shrugging it off with a small sigh, Harry decided that he should at least try to let them know he was back. He made his way through the deserted corridors of Hogwarts and stopped in front of the stone gargoyle that was guarding Dumbledore's office. "Mars Bars." Nothing happened. Harry frowned. Dumbledore had changed the password!  
  
Harry spent the next half hour trying to guess Dumbledore's password- then he ran out of names for sweets and gave up. Feeling utterly defeated and more than a little annoyed, Harry walked through the silent hallways into the teacher's wing and to his room.  
  
"Elven Clearing," he muttered to Merlin, and the portrait swung open.  
  
Like the other rooms, his was empty. Harry plopped down on the bed with a soft sigh- and heard the sound of crumpling parchment underneath himself. Harry jumped up again and looked at the bed. Indeed, there was a note- or rather a letter, it seemed- lying on the covers. Harry smoothed it out and read:  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I am sorry that we weren't able to wait for you, but Mundungus  
Fletcher accidentally overheard two Deatheaters in Knockturn Alley  
talking- Voldemort, it seems, has decided to change the time of the  
attack. All of us had to leave hastily for last-minute-preparations.  
The attack will take place at three o'clock in the morning.  
Nobody but the members of the Order of the Phoenix can enter the  
school grounds at the moment, so you needn't worry about your safety.  
Harry..... I probably don't have to tell you that it's going to be a  
hard battle. There is the possibility that I will never see you again.  
Let's keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best, shall we?  
Whatever happens tonight, I want you to know that I do love you, very  
much.  
Sleep now, Harry, Severus wishes for me to tell you that your potion  
is on your nightstand as usual. Sirius, Remus, Hagrid and Albus say  
hello.  
  
Until tomorrow,  
Your godmother,  
Minerva  
  
Harry stared at the letter wide-eyed. He couldn't believe what he had just read. Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, then put his glasses on again and reread the letter. The words hadn't changed. Harry felt his knees give away and let himself sink on to the bed.  
  
He sat there for a few minutes staring off into space in shock. They were all gone, and maybe he would never see them again.  
  
Bill and Charlie Weasley, whom he had barely known but who had always been nice to him. Arthur Weasley, who had always treated him like another son. The Hogwarts staff...... Snape, whom he had just started to like..... Dumbledore..... Hagrid..... Remus..... Sirius..... Minerva.....  
  
Harry could feel tears stinging in his eyes. They couldn't die! For the first time in his life he had had godparents, the closest thing to parents he would ever get! He had had a family..... and now, he might never see them again. Harry quickly took off his glasses again and burrowed his face in his hands.  
  
He couldn't give up hope just like that. They were going to be alright, they were going to defeat Voldemort, they were coming back, they wouldn't just leave him like that! Damnit, they wouldn't! Harry wiped away a few treacherous tears that had escaped his eyes and smiled defiantly.  
  
He was not giving up. Harry wished there was a way he could help his fellow Order members. But even as he searched his mind frantically for a possibility, he knew that it was no use. If Dumbledore had wanted him to participate in the attack, he would have waited for Harry. And besides, Harry told himself sensibly, what good could a fourteen-year-old wizard with just four years of training do in a fight against dark wizards? Shoot a tickling charm at them? Make them dance quickstep? Use the jelly legs jinx?  
  
Harry snorted at the mental picture: Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man, dancing quickstep with wobbly legs and laughing his head off. Harry sobered quickly though when he remembered that in reality, the fight wasn't that much fun.  
  
Harry got up from his bed slowly and shed his sweat-soaked Quidditch robes. He put them on the dirty clothes pile for the house-elves to collect later. Then, he took a long, hot bath in the river and put on some pyjamas. He figured that he wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything anyway, so he might as well get some sleep.  
  
Sighing, Harry uncorked the vial with the Dreamless-but-not-Visionless- Sleep Potion and swallowed its contents in one, big gulp. The vial slipped from his fingers and fell onto the soft, green grass floor, and Harry slumped back into his pillows. The world grew warm and fuzzy, and Harry Potter dreamt.....  
  
~*~  
  
Voldemort sat on his throne overlooking the rows of warriors in front of him. Some of them were Deatheaters, many new recruits. But most were his own creatures: Crossbreeds between several dark races like Acromantulas, Banshees, Chimaera, and Lethifolds..... Together they had created beings like there had never been before, killing machines, loyal only to the dark side. Voldemort had decided to call them Aychryds. There were also some dementors and Acromantulas, as well as some Banshees who had agreed to help in his fight against the so-called light side. Voldemort smiled grimly and shook his head.  
  
Fools they were, all of them. By now they should know that there was no such thing as a light and a dark side. By now they should know that there was only power and those too weak to seek it. Dumbledore and his crew were idealists, all of them. And that would be their downfall.  
  
Voldemort noticed some of the creatures in front of him shift restlessly and supposed that he had kept them waiting for long enough. A quick glance at his permanent time-spell told him that it was a quarter to three. High time for them to get moving.  
  
Voldemort stood slowly and watched with grim satisfaction as the Deatheaters and other beings in front of him cowered inwardly. His horrible smile widened. Oh yes, even after almost fourteen years of absence, of existence without a body, he had not lost his touch. Voldemort stepped down the stairs leading to his throne slowly and began to walk along the rows of his army. There were at least a thousand, all waiting for his command, waiting to fight the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's supporters.  
  
Voldemort stopped in the middle of the room where they could all see him.  
  
"My loyal servants," he began quietly, "It is time. In only about fifteen minutes we will attack the fortress of Azkaban and free those who have been imprisoned in there for fourteen years. Leave no one behind. Free even those who have not supported me in the past, by now they will be bitter or broken enough to join my forces. I want you to show no mercy. Kill everyone who stands in your way. Slaughter every member of the Order of the Phoenix, whether they surrender or not. By the end of this night, I want not one of them to be alive."  
  
The creatures around him cheered. It was a deafening sound, the cheer of a winning army. Voldemort smiled in satisfaction and waited until they had calmed down.  
  
"And now, my servantsss," he hissed, "It is time. This entire chamber is a portkey. Once I speak the incantation, it will take us straight to Azkaban. As soon as we arrive there, it will disappear and we will be standing exactly fifty feet in front of the fortress. Wait for my command before you attack. And now, my loyal servantsss, good luck to you all! Shall the darkness always be with you!"  
  
The army cheered again, and Voldemort muttered the incantation with a grim smile. A strange wind picked up, lightning flashed in front of the windows. Then, with a resounding boom that shook the chamber's walls, it stopped. Utter silence reigned the hall for second, before the walls of the chamber abruptly fell away and the army was standing on the rough stone ground that was the island of Azkaban.  
  
Right in front of them, a gigantic, black stone building raised itself into the air. It radiated coldness and fear, a sure sign of dementors' presences. It was the fortress of Azkaban, the greatest wizard prison ever in existence.  
  
And in front of it stood a (compared to his own army) pitiful gathering of 'light' wizards. In the lead was Albus Dumbledore. Voldemort's smile widened as he recognised his old arch enemy. He was not surprised to find Dumbledore and the Order, the man had always had a way of knowing where the next attack would take place. He gave a mock salute and then nodded to his army.  
  
"Now, my loyal servants, it is time for you to show your worth. Show no mercy, don't let them escape. This is the hour of darkness, this is the start of a new reign, the reign of Lord Voldemort! ATTACK!"  
  
And with a terrible cheer, the army charged forward. But Dumbledore reacted quickly. Voldemort listened with grudging respect as the man gave out orders calmly to his maybe two-hundred people strong defence force.  
  
Then, the two groups clashed, and the fight had begun. Voldemort frowned. The Order was fighting bravely, he had to give them that. Good warriors, all of them. It was a pity that they had to be killed. But as time grew on, Voldemort noticed that the light wizards, especially the youngest who had never fought in a battle before, were starting to tire. Finally, his army was having success. Many of the light wizards fell.  
  
Voldemort smiled delightedly. But his happiness was short-lived. Enraged by the losses of some of their number, it seemed, the light side increased its struggles. Voldemort snarled angrily as one of his Aychryds fell heavily to the ground. To make matters even worse, Dumbledore seemed to realize that they were fighting a losing battle. He fended off the two Deatheaters he had been fighting before and drew himself up to his full height.  
  
"Retreat!" he boomed. "Retreat into the fortress!"  
  
The Order drew back. They fled into the fortress of Azkaban. Voldemort's creatures followed, but they were bred to kill, not to run quickly. Ever so slowly, the Order was gaining ground. The few Deatheaters there were tried to follow them and fired curses, but Voldemort held them back. The Order members had already reached the entrance of the fortress and were closing the gates behind them. He smiled in grim satisfaction.  
  
"Well done, my army," he called to his scattered fighters, "We have won!" Silence descended on the battle field as everyone turned to look at their commander in confusion. After a few moments of silence, Lucius Malfoy stepped forward. "My Lord," he said humbly, bowing deeply. "There is not one- er- being here doubting your eternal wisdom, but may you enlighten us lowly men as to why we have won this battle? The Order retreated into the fortress, they have a great advantage now."  
  
Voldemort smiled horribly. Usually, such a question would have earned a Deatheater a Cruciatus Curse, but that night he was in a good mood and feeling generous.  
  
"Simple, Luciusss," he hissed. "Have you forgotten about the dementors? They know that we are here and have agreed to help ussss in this fight. The Order retreated into the fortress and right into the dragon's den. By the time we go in there, none of them will have their souls left."  
  
There was silence for a moment, then a Deatheater in the back rows began to chuckle. Others began to smile and laugh outright. Within seconds, the island of Azkaban was reverberating with terrible cheers and laughter. The dark side had won the battle. The light side was going down.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry shot up in bed with a gasp. His scar hurt like never before. But at the moment, Harry couldn't care less. They were gone, all of them. His godparents and Dumbledore and Remus, Hagrid and the staff..... and all the members of the Order..... all of them had received the kiss, he wouldn't see any of them again.  
  
Harry let himself fall back onto the bed and buried his face in his hands. He cried silently for a few minutes, cried harder than he had ever before. It was so damn unfair! They had been the light side, they had fought for everything that was right! And yet, they were probably all dead or being killed right then!  
  
Probably..... probably killed..... Harry sat straight up again. What if they were still alive? What if Voldemort had been mistaken? A tiny light of hope began to blossom in Harry again. Maybe, if they had found a way to escape. If they had apparated out or something?  
  
Suddenly, Harry was hit by overwhelming fear. It was so strong, so terrible, that Harry felt as though he was suffocating. But at the same time he felt oddly detached. Like the fear wasn't coming from him, but from someone else..... someone else.... Harry gasped as realisation hit. The bond! It wasn't his own fear he was feeling, it was the fear of the Order Council members! They could sense his emotions, so he could sense theirs!  
  
Harry concentrated hard and tried to open a telepathic link to Remus and his godparents.  
  
*Minerva, Sirius, Remus..... are you there?* Harry thought frantically.  
  
He could feel astonishment seep through the link.  
  
*Harry?*  
  
It was his godmother's voice. Harry felt so relieved that he almost started to cry again.  
  
*Are Sirius and Remus and the others alright?* he thought instead.  
  
He could feel his godmother's worry.  
  
*They are alive for now, Harry. Remus is unconscious because someone has stabbed him with a silver dagger..... You know werewolfs don't react well to silver..... All the Council members are still alive, but we have lost many. Harry..... I'm sorry, but we won't be able to return.*  
  
Harry felt choked again.  
  
*Why not?* Even his mental voice sounded choked.  
  
*There are anti-apparation wards on Azkaban, Harry,* Minerva thought softly to Harry, *And no portkeys or floo powder work here either. We can't go outside because Voldemort and his army are there, and the dementors in here are just preparing to give us all the kiss. I'm sorry, but there is no way for us to escape.*  
  
Harry choked as he tried to hold back a fresh wave of tears.  
  
*It's unfair!* he thought hysterically.  
  
*Harry, I know, but we can't change this. We knew something like this could happen, we were prepared to die, and now that it does happen..... we must accept it. Please stop crying, Harry.....*  
  
Harry broke down completely.  
  
*I can't help it,* he thought back, then let the mental connection drop. It was all so damn unfair! All of them were going to die, and they knew it! They could just stand there until it was their turn to get their soul sucked out..... Harry couldn't stand it any longer, jumped up and raced from his room. He ignored the shouts of his portrait behind him and ran on. Where he was going, Harry didn't know.  
  
He ran blindly through the hallways, tears blurring his vision and splashing down on his pyjama. He stumbled, fell, got up again and ran on. After some time of blindly racing through corridors, Harry realized that he had reached the entrance doors. He pushed them open and ran outside. It had started to rain as if the weather knew what was happening at Azkaban right then.  
  
Harry ran away from the castle. He ran and ran and ran, until his foot caught on a tree root and he fell facedown on to the grass. He made no effort to get up again, weeping angrily into the grass, allowing the rain to soak him.  
  
It was unfair. It was just unfair! Harry could feel his desperation and sadness turn to bitter anger. He slowly sat up. It was not right. What kind of world was this where innocents could be murdered just because some sick psycho wanted them to die? What kind of god allowed two hundred people who were fighting for the good cause to find death, or worse than death, at the hands of people who were striving to gain power over the whole world and do nothing but kill and spread misery?  
  
What kind of deity allowed children to become orphans and women and men to become widows? And why did this deity hate him, Harry, so much that he took away the only chance at a family he had had in fourteen years?  
  
Harry gritted his teeth against the tears of rage and helplessness that were fighting to get out again.  
  
"I don't want them to die," he mumbled to himself, not caring if he was selfish or childish, and turned his face upwards.  
  
"You hear me?" he yelled to whoever might listen. "I don't want them to die! They are my family, the only family I have, and you won't take them away from me! I won't allow you! As long as I live, they are not going to die! I want them to be here with me right now!"  
  
A bolt of lightning crashed down from the sky and struck the ground beside Harry. Harry gasped and jumped backward. But the lightning did not go away. Instead, it expanded until it had the size of the Hogwarts entrance hall. Cautiously, Harry stepped forward.  
  
He had a weird feeling in his stomach. It felt as though someone was pulling him, or rather his energy, away from him. Harry began to feel extremely weak and faint. He dropped to his knees in front of the light space, gasping for breath. But inside the light, suddenly, figures began to appear. With each figure, Harry felt more of his energy drain away. Panicked, he tried to stop it, but found that he couldn't. His sight began to grow fuzzy and Harry clung to consciousness as though it was a lifeline.  
  
After a few, agonizingly long minutes, the feeling stopped suddenly. The light disappeared, leaving about eighty people looking around in confusion. One of them spotted the half-conscious boy kneeling on the ground beside them. He stepped forward in disbelief.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry lifted his eyes. His vision swam badly, even though he was wearing his glasses. But Harry recognised his godfather anyway.  
  
"Hi, Sirius," he managed weakly. "Um, how are you?"  
  
And with that, he felt the last of his strength drain away and allowed himself to slip away into oblivion.  
  
~*~  
  
He fell into a deep, black void. There was nothing but blissful nothingness around him. He couldn't feel, couldn't think, couldn't remember anything. He just existed in the lethargic black substance, floating in darkness.  
  
Sometimes, in a rare moment of clarity, he knew that he was lying on the brink of something. He could not tell what, but had a feeling that he should better not fall over the brink.  
  
Sometimes, when he found the strength, he crawled away from the seemingly endless abyss beside him, in the opposite direction.  
  
Sometimes, when he got far enough, he could see a little light ahead, hear excited voices talking.  
  
Sometimes, he even felt someone holding his hand, or wiping his forehead with something cool and wet.  
  
But every time, his strength drained away from him and fell back down onto the brink.  
  
It frustrated him endlessly, and sometimes he played with the thought of just letting the darkness win and letting himself fall down into the abyss.  
  
But something held him back. He did not know who the voices were, but they seemed to care about him. Hell, he didn't even know who he himself was, but somewhere deep down he knew that it was important for him not let go. He had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to get back to wherever he belonged.  
  
How long he lay there, he didn't know. He had no idea how much time passed. To him, it was eternity and just a second at the same time. Time wasn't important where he was.  
  
Slowly, ever so slowly, he could feel some of his strength return. He could hear the voices talking excitedly. He crawled toward the light with all his might.  
  
The blackness was thick, grasping him, trying to pull him back into the dark void. But he fought with all his mind. He was desperate, anything to get away from the darkness. Body shaking with exhaustion, he continued on. Step for step, inch for inch, he dragged himself into the light.  
  
Until he had reached it, and allowed it to swallow him completely.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry moaned and opened his eyes slowly. White. It was blinding him after all the time he had spent in total darkness, and Harry quickly shut his eyes again.  
  
"Dim the light, it's blinding him," he heard someone say close to his head. He knew that voice, he had heard it before. But his tired brain could not identify it. Even through his closed eyelids, Harry noticed the light dim and cautiously opened his eyes again.  
  
The room was still white, but it was bearable. Who would paint their room all white, anyway? Harry thought sluggishly. Many beds were standing in the room, some of them occupied. Many beds? Oh, he was in the hospital wing! Feeling triumphant after his little victory, Harry turned his head slightly to look at the people around his bed.  
  
The one that had been talking earlier, the old man with a long, white beard and long, white hair, was Dumbledore. Yes, that was his name, the headmaster of Hogwarts. And standing beside him, was..... Snape. Potions Master. His enemy. No, that was not right, they weren't enemies anymore.  
  
Standing behind the two of them was a gigantic man with brown hair and a brown beard who was weeping in what appeared to be happiness. Hagrid, his tired brain supplied sluggishly. Three people were on the other side of the bed. Harry weakly turned to face them. He recognised those three quickly.  
  
The two men were his godfather, Sirius, and his friend Remus. And the woman holding his hand was his godmother, Minerva.  
  
Harry smiled weakly at all of them.  
  
"Um, hi," he said, surprising himself by how weak and scratchy his voice sounded. Before anyone could answer him, another person appeared. It was a short, a little plump woman with a good-natured face and a currently stern and a little relieved expression. After a quick search through his sluggish mind Harry recognised Madam Pomfrey.  
  
The healer pulled a bottle with a strange, purple potion out of her pocket and held it to Harry's lips. Harry supposed that he should probably swallow. It hurt to do so, his entire throat was parched, but Harry complied anyway. The potion slid soothingly down his throat, and Harry suddenly felt a lot better. But another potion was forced into his mouth, leaving Harry no choice but to either suffocate of swallow. Harry chose the latter.  
  
The world grew fuzzy instantly and Harry allowed his heavy eyelids to slide closed. He slipped away into the world of dreams.  
  
~*~  
  
"DAMNIT! HOW COULD THEY HAVE GOTTEN AWAY? HOW? WHO DID THIS!"  
  
To say that the Dark Lord was not in a good mood was an understatement. The Deatheaters in the room cowered in fear. It was the first Deatheater meeting since the half-successful attack on Azkaban and had been several days, but the Dark Lord's fury had not subsided. If anything, it had grown.  
  
Voldemort stopped his pacing abruptly and pointed his wand at a random Deatheater.  
  
"You there! What's your name?"  
  
The man shook visibly.  
  
"L-Lanen, My Lord. Tillus Lanen."  
  
"You were responsible for the prisoners getting away, weren't you?"  
  
The Deatheater, a rather young man who had been imprisoned in Azkaban falsely and who had been faced with the decision of either dying or joining Voldemort's ranks a few days before, flinched and paled.  
  
"M-my Lord, I wouldn't- I would never-"  
  
Voldemort waved his wand angrily.  
  
"Silence! You will be punished for your insolence! Crucio!"  
  
The unfortunate Deatheater dropped to his knees on the cold stone floor, writhing and screaming in pure agony. Voldemort watched with a malicious smile, feeling a little better. He left the poor man under the curse for almost five minutes, then he finally lifted it.  
  
The young man lay on the floor, panting and shivering violently. Voldemort frowned and kicked him in the rips.  
  
"Get up!"  
  
Shaking badly, muscles protesting all the way, the young man complied.  
  
Voldemort drew himself up to his full height and towered over the unfortunate victim.  
  
"And now tell me, boy, did you, or did you not release those prisoners?" The young man broke into cold sweat, eyes searching frantically for a bit of reassurance or help in the Deatheater ranks. But none of them were meeting his eyes, all of them relieved that they weren't subject to Voldemort's rage.  
  
The young man turned his attention back to his master, regretting, not for the first time, his decision of joining the Deatheaters.  
  
"My Lord," he pleaded, "I swear, I did not release the prisoners, I wouldn't know how, please My Lord, I swear-"  
  
"Crucio," Voldemort interrupted almost lazily. This time, he didn't lift the curse so quickly. He left the young man screaming himself hoarse on the floor for almost ten minutes. This time, when he finally lifted the curse, the unfortunate Deatheater began coughing up blood.  
  
Voldemort watched him emotionlessly, knowing that he had destroyed the man's body. He kicked his ribs again, and the young man shakily got to his feet and met his 'master's' gaze defiantly. Voldemort smiled horribly. Ah, the spirit of the young.  
  
"I'll ask you one more time, boy," he growled. "Just one more time. Did you, or did you not release the prisoners!?" Voldemort was almost shouting by the end.  
  
"No," The young man whispered, looking at the floor.  
  
"What was that?" Voldemort asked with narrowed eyes. The young man raised his eyes again.  
  
"I said, no." he repeated firmly. Whispers broke out in the Deatheater ranks. Nobody had ever spoken to Voldemort in that tone before.  
  
Voldemort himself raised his wand. His red eyes were blazing, none of the Deatheaters had ever seen him so furious before.  
  
"Well," he hissed, "It seems that you have not learnt your lesson yet, boy. Maybe another little dose of pain would help?"  
  
The young man kept his gaze glued to the ground. Voldemort narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Crucio!" he spat again. This time, he didn't lift the curse for almost fifteen minutes, watching the man with a small, sadistic smile on his lips. The Deatheaters in the room began to shift nervously, knowing that after fifteen minutes of torture, the poor 'recruit' had probably lost his mind.  
  
When Voldemort lifted the curse, the victim stayed on the ground, panting and shaking.  
  
Voldemort turned him over with his foot.  
  
"For the very last time, boy," he whispered. "Did you release the prisoners?"  
  
The young man shook his head in despair. He hadn't done anything wrong, but he couldn't stand the torture any longer.  
  
"Yes," he whispered.  
  
Voldemort's eyes flashed in triumph.  
  
"Speak up, boy!" he sneered. The young man raised his head weakly.  
  
"Yes!" he screamed. "Yes, Damnit, I did release the prisoners! Anything for this pain to stop!"  
  
Voldemort smirked.  
  
"For your betrayal of the dark side, I will have to kill you," he said with a malicious smile. "Say goodbye to the world, boy! –Avada Kedavra!"  
  
The green light shot from his wand tip and hit the young man squarely in the chest. He was dead in an instant. Utter silence filled the room. None of the remaining Deatheaters dared to move, they were too afraid to draw their master's attention to them. Voldemort smirked and pointed his wand at another random Deatheater.  
  
"You there!" The Deatheater paled and gasped, sweat breaking out on his face.  
  
"M-master?" he stepped forward timidly. It was Goyle. Voldemort waited until he was standing in front of him.  
  
"Goyle," he addressed the shaking man, "Did you see the traitor over there free the prisoners?"  
  
Goyle, shaking with the fear of his master's wrath, nodded obediently.  
  
"Y-yes, master. I saw him freeing the prisoners."  
  
Voldemort stared at Goyle for a few moments and then turned away, smirking.  
  
"Liar," he drawled quietly. Goyle was just as shocked as the rest of the Deatheaters.  
  
"M-my Lord?" he inquired cautiously.  
  
Voldemort turned back around and faced the Deatheaters.  
  
"I called you a liar," he remarked calmly, "Because you are one. All of you know as well as I do that this man-"he jerked his head in the dead body's direction- "did not betray me. He did not free my prisoners. During his torture, he turned to you for help. But none you spoke up for him, out of fear of my wrath."  
  
Voldemort paced the room in front of his Deatheaters.  
  
"When we attacked the fortress of Azkaban, we had an army of a thousand people and creatures. Dumbledore's forces counted barely two hundred men. There were five of us against every one of the enemies. And yet, almost a hundred of their number have survived- and escaped!- while we lost almost four hundred warriors!" Voldemort shouted at the end of his speech. The Deatheaters flinched. Voldemort resumed his pacing.  
  
"How is it that such a small number of people defied our army? How is it that almost half of them escaped with their lives, while we lost four hundred fighters?"  
  
Voldemort stopped in front of a table and put his hands on it, leaning forward and looking each of his Deatheaters in the eyes.  
  
"Because," he answered his own question, "You have no ability to fight as a group. Dumbledore's forces worked together, protecting each other's backs and fighting strong enemies in groups of two or three. While you attacked them on your own, didn't watch out for your companions and generally messed up, like you always do."  
  
Silence followed his little speech. Voldemort went back to his throne and sat down.  
  
"Next time, I expect better from you. Otherwise, more than one of you will find himself in the same condition as that man over there," Voldemort finished menacingly and nodded toward the corpse.  
  
"Someone dispose of his body. You are dismissed."  
  
The Deatheaters didn't need to be told twice. They hastily scrambled out of the room, two of them carrying the unfortunate Deatheater's body. Only when the doors had shut behind them did Voldemort allow himself to sigh in frustration. Why was it that he always seemed to be surrounded by imbeciles?  
  
~*~  
  
Harry woke up with a groan. He hated it when Voldemort tortured people, even if they were Deatheaters. Someone put his glasses on to his face and Harry blinked as the world came into focus.  
  
"Hello, Harry," someone said warmly. Harry looked up. It was Minerva. Before he could say a word, his godmother had suddenly scooped him into a hug. Harry was a little shocked but did not resist. He rather like being hugged by Minerva, it was what he imagined being hugged by a mother must be like. Minerva was the closest thing to a mother he had, anyway.  
  
When his godmother finally released him, eyes glistening with suspicious wetness, her spot was immediately taken by Sirius, who also scooped Harry into a hug. After that, it was Remus's turn to hug him, and then Hagrid's, who squeezed him half to death.  
  
After that, Harry felt rather squashed and regarded the adults around his bed wearily. "Um- is there anything I missed?"  
  
They stared at him, Sirius choking slightly.  
  
"Anything you missed?" he asked in disbelief. "Harry- the attack on Azkaban was on Thursday morning, today is Sunday! You slept for almost four days!"  
  
Harry blinked. Four days?  
  
"Don't you remember, Harry?" Remus asked quietly. "Don't you remember what happened?"  
  
Harry furrowed his brows in deep thought.  
  
"I remember- the Quidditch practice. After that, I went home on the Knight Bus- I arrived late, and none of you were at the castle. I found this a little strange, I was-"Harry broke off. It seemed silly and selfish to him now that he had been disappointed about their absence.  
  
"Never mind. I tried to get in Professor Dumbledore's office, but I couldn't guess the password- so I went back to my room- and I found the letter....."  
  
Harry trailed off again, deciding to leave out his reaction to the letter's contents.  
  
"I took the potion afterwards, and had this vision..... but I assume you saw it, too, since it involved Voldemort?"  
  
They nodded quietly. Harry frowned. His memories were getting a little fuzzy.  
  
"I remember watching the fight, until you all backed away into the fortress. Voldemort thought he had defeated you- then I woke up."  
  
Harry broke off again, deciding that he would leave his emotions out of this completely.  
  
"I remembered the mental bond and tried to contact you, and it worked, but you told me that you wouldn't return-"  
  
Harry stopped and hesitated. This was where his memories became unclear, just pictures with seemingly no connection.  
  
"I- I don't remember clearly what happened next. I think I ran out of my room- I was very upset- next thing I know is that I was outside on the castle grounds."  
  
Harry frowned, remembering that last, and, looking back, highly embarrassing memory.  
  
"I didn't want you to die," he said quietly. "I think I yelled that out, too. I hated whoever might listen at that moment for allowing things like that to happen. I wished with all my might that you all could be back at Hogwarts-"  
  
Harry frowned more deeply.  
  
"And something strange happened. That bolt of lightning hit the ground next to me, and in it there were people. With each new person, I could feel my strength drain away. In the end, the light faded away, and one of you- Sirius- addressed me..... and then, I can't remember anything until I woke up today."  
  
The adults nodded, all of them looking at Harry with a peculiar expression. It was respect and gratefulness mixed with- something else. Harry began to feel uncomfortable under their gazes, which Dumbledore seemed to notice. He sat down on the bed beside Harry and smiled kindly.  
  
"Harry, do you know what you did?"  
  
Harry shook his head, feeling confused.  
  
"I did something?"  
  
Dumbledore chuckled and ruffled Harry's hair- why did everyone insist on doing that?!  
  
"Oh yes, indeed, my dear boy. You invoked the 'Praesidium Sensus' Shield."  
  
Harry felt even more confused. "I did what?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "The 'Praesidium Sensus' Incantation. It's Latin for 'Protection of Sentiment'."  
  
Harry just shook his head. Whatever he had done, he wasn't sure that he wanted to hear about it. It sounded embarrassing.  
  
Dumbledore continued.  
  
"Basically, you used the same shield Lily invoked when she gave her life for you. Both of you offered your love, your life energy, so that others, in this case all of us here, could live. The only difference is that Lily did it consciously, while your incantation was based just on your will and strong desire for, as you put it, the only family you have."  
  
Harry stared at his headmaster. "How do you know-"  
  
"The spell, Harry," Remus interjected. "You said that a bolt of lightning struck the ground beside you. Well, in our case, the bolt of lightning came up from the ground and took all of us with it. While we were, er, flying through the air, we could hear what you were- well- shouting."  
  
Harry groaned and shook his head, burrowing his face in his hands. This was probably the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him.  
  
"If I told you that I had shouted all that stuff just because I was angry, not because I meant it, would you believe me?"  
  
He could hear several chuckles around him.  
  
"Sorry Potter," Professor Snape spoke up, not sounding sorry at all, "This incantation requires utmost honesty. If you had not meant what you said, the shield would not have worked."  
  
Harry just sighed and nodded.  
  
"Wait a moment," he said suddenly, letting his hands drop, "Why was I unconscious for four days?"  
  
"Ah yes," Dumbledore nodded. "Harry, I told you that the incantation basically makes you give up your life energy in order to help others. Lily used it to protect you with her life energy, and you used it to summon us away from danger. But since there were so many you summoned at the same time, the incantation drained you of most of your energy. There was a bare minimum left. One more person, and you would have died. We came very close to losing you that night, Harry."  
  
Ah, Harry thought. That explained the hugs.  
  
"Harry," Snape said quietly, for once using Harry's given name, "You saved our lives. Had you not interfered, even unconsciously, we would all have been dead. We are in your debt."  
  
Harry's head snapped up suddenly.  
  
"I almost forgot, how did the fight go? We know from that last vision that Voldemort lost almost four hundred fighters. How many.....?"  
  
The people around his bed lowered their heads.  
  
"We lost many," Sirius said sadly. "There were only eighty-six Order members left, the Council included. The attack on Azkaban was a heavy blow. All of the Council members survived, though some barely. Remus was, as you know, struck by a silver dagger and was unconscious for two days. Arabella is still at St. Mungo's, but she will be alright. The one that was hurt the most was you, really."  
  
Harry nodded, feeling both saddened and relieved.  
  
"How did the ministry cover things up this time, though? Azkaban has fallen, the dementors have joined Voldemort, so have most of the prisoners. There are so many dead on both sides, how did Fudge explain that?"  
  
"Ah," Dumbledore said, his eyes suddenly twinkling brightly. "That must be the one good thing coming from this attack. Fudge went to the island of Azkaban with a group of Aurors for investigation. When he realized that Azkaban had really fallen and found all the Deatheater corpses, he suffered a nervous breakdown. Here, this is the article that was in the Daily Prophet the morning after the attack."  
  
Dumbledore handed Harry a newspaper. The headline read:  
  
"YOU-KNOW-WHO BACK- AZKABAN FALLEN- MINISTER RESIGNS  
  
This morning, at exactly three o'clock, writes Jake Warrington,  
special correspondent, Voldemort, along with a force of 1000  
Deatheaters and beasts, attacked the fortress of Azkaban. The Order of  
the Phoenix under the leadership of one Albus Dumbledore knew of the  
attack and defended the wizard prison bravely.  
"It was hopeless," Kingsley Shacklebolt, member of the Order Council  
and survivor of the attack, tells the reporters. "We were outnumbered.  
The Order only had about two hundred people, while Voldemort had one  
thousand. After only fifteen minutes, we were forced to retreat into  
the fortress, where the dementors were waiting for us."  
The dementors, soul-sucking creatures that guarded the fortress of  
Azkaban, had apparently agreed to join You-Know-Who's forces before  
the attack even started, and as soon as the Order members entered  
Azkaban, prepared to give them The Kiss.  
"I don't know what happened next," Shacklebolt continues, "Some kind  
of lightning bolt appeared out of nowhere and whisked us away. When it  
released us a few minutes later, we were on the Hogwarts grounds, and  
Harry Potter was lying on the ground next to us. He was unconscious."  
Shacklebolt could, or would, not say anymore on that matter. Fact is,  
that not-even-fifteen-year-old Harry Potter has somehow single-  
handedly saved the members of the Order of the Phoenix.  
"I ain't not care about what th' Skeeter woman says 'bout 'Arry  
Potter," a bystander comments, "'e's a good lad and 'e's saved us all  
more than once."  
Harry Potter has been accused of being a dark wizard by Minister Fudge  
and Ms. Rita Skeeter a few weeks ago because he told the world of You-  
Know-Who's return.  
Minister Fudge ignored both young Harry and Hogwarts's esteemed  
headmaster Albus Dumbledore's warnings. The attack on Azkaban is the  
result.  
"Azkaban has fallen," Shacklebolt tells us with a frown, "There's  
nothing we can change about that. Voldemort has released the prisoners  
and has forced them to join him. His army has grown a lot."  
Confronted about this matter, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, who  
just recovered from a nervous breakdown, says:  
"You-Know-Who is indeed back. It was foolish of me not to believe  
Dumbledore and Harry Potter. I apologise to the two of them for any  
inconveniences I may have caused them. Furthermore, I would like to  
announce that I am resigning from my post. Yes, you heard correctly.  
The outcome of this attack is partly my fault, I feel that I can't  
deal with the situation anymore. I appoint Dumbledore as the temporary  
minister, he may set the date for new elections. And now excuse me, I  
would like to go drown myself."  
It is to say that nobody held the ex-minister back.  
Furthermore, the Daily Prophet wishes all the best to our new  
temporary minister Albus Dumbledore and our young hero Harry Potter.  
May Minister Dumbledore deal with the situation at hand better than  
our previous minister did."  
  
Harry lowered the newspaper.  
  
"Whoa," he said in awe.  
  
Sirius grinned.  
  
"You were lucky, Harry," he remarked, "This article was written by a reporter who is obviously quite smitten with you. Your reputation is practically completely cleared."  
  
Harry smiled, that was a relief.  
  
"And the Order?" he wanted to know. "How many new recruits are there?"  
  
Sirius smiled even more widely.  
  
"This article definitely helped. There was an uproar in the magical community. In the past four days we had almost seven hundred new recruits. That's still fewer than Voldemort has, but it's more than we had in the beginning. More people are joining as we speak."  
  
Harry nodded and fell back into his pillows with a sigh. He felt exhausted after all the talking. Madam Pomfrey came over with a sleeping potion.  
  
"Drink this, Mr. Potter," she ordered. "It's just a dreamless-sleep potion. You will wake up in time for the meeting tomorrow."  
  
"Meeting?" Harry asked in confusion.  
  
Hagrid answered.  
  
"There's a meeting o' the Order o' the Phoenix tomorrow, Harry," he said with a kind smile. "You don' wan' to miss it, righ'?"  
  
Harry smiled back.  
  
"Right. See you tomorrow!"  
  
He gulped the contents of the bottle down. The world grew warm and fuzzy again, Harry sunk back into his pillows and shut his eyes with a contented sigh. He felt someone remove the bottle from his limp fingers and drew the covers up to his chin. Then, the tiredness overwhelmed Harry and carried him into oblivion.  
  
**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************  
  
A/N: Oof... Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and Merry Christmas!!!!!!!!  
  
See ya,  
  
Felinity ^_^ 


	9. Chapter Nine: The Meeting

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you recognise! They all belong to JK Rowling!!! I do own the E.N.Q.T., their coach, the plot, Rhianna Lupin...... uh...... I think that's about it.  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
Chapter 9  
  
The Meeting  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
When Harry woke up again from a mercifully dreamless sleep, it was still rather early in the morning. Birds were singing outside, nothing seemed to be able to disturb the peaceful silence. Harry sighed happily and stretched.  
  
"Ah, good, you're awake."  
  
It seemed that something, or rather someone, could break the comfortable silence after all. Poppy Pomfrey, the Hogwarts matron, bustled over to Harry's bed. She took out her wand and cast a few spells over him. Harry could not understand what she was saying, but the spells tingled strangely on his skin.  
  
Finally, Madam Pomfrey seemed to be satisfied and pocketed her wand.  
  
"Well, Mr. Potter," she said, regarding him sternly. "It seems that, once again, you have been incredibly lucky. You are free to leave if you wish to do so, breakfast will be served in the great hall in approximately half an hour."  
  
Harry nodded and thanked the nurse. As he was still feeling a little wobbly on his legs, he allowed Madam Pomfrey to help him into fresh clothes.  
  
"Try not to do anything too taxing for a while, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey advised, "No Quidditch or Flying for another three days. And yes, I have already spoken to your coach, he understands and wishes for me to tell you to get better as soon as possible."  
  
Harry sighed resignedly and nodded. Then, he made his way out of the hospital wing. Just as he was about to close the door behind himself, he heard Madam Pomfrey's voice again.  
  
"Harry-"Harry opened the door again.  
  
"Yes?" Madam Pomfrey regarded him silently for a few moments, then allowed a small smile to cross her face.  
  
"If I see you again in the hospital wing before school has even started, I might just refuse to heal you. Though, of course, you are welcome to visit me any time."  
  
Harry smiled and nodded, knowing that the nurse wasn't serious.  
  
"Right." he agreed earnestly and started on his way through the many hallways of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry towards the great hall.  
  
The Hogwarts Infirmary was on the fourth floor (A/N: If that's not right, forgive me, I'm too lazy to check at the moment). The way to the great Hall was long and complicated, but to Harry, who must have walked it more than any other student in Hogwarts, it was familiar.  
  
Walking down a flight of stairs, Harry suddenly stopped. He was in the third floor corridor, the one that had been out of bounds in his first year. Harry stared at the door that had been the beginning of his very first adventure at Hogwarts, so many years before..... it felt like it had been an eternity since he, Ron and Hermione had made their way through this door, put Fluffy to sleep and jumped through the trap door.  
  
Harry smiled softly as he approached the door and let his hand slide over the rough, strong wood. Was Fluffy still behind it? But no, Harry would have heard the growling. Harry wondered what was in the corridor behind the door when it was not being used as a hiding place for one of the most valuable objects ever in existence.  
  
A sudden, irresistible urge to open the door and have a look overcame Harry. He glanced over his shoulder, checking if anyone was watching him. Harry knew that he was being stupid, but every time he did something forbidden, he got the feeling that someone was watching him. (A/N: Don't we all know that feeling?)  
  
Technically, it was not even forbidden to open this door right then, but still Harry felt guilty, like a little child that peeked at its Christmas presents in the middle of the night when its parents are asleep.  
  
Giggling nervously at the strange comparison, Harry slowly tried to open the door. For a moment, he thought that it was locked and felt a jolt of irrational relief, but then, ever so slowly, the door creaked open in its rusty hinges.  
  
Harry gulped and glanced over his shoulder again before drawing a deep breath and stepping through the door. The corridor was dark. It was pitch black. There were no windows, apparently, and no visible torches either. The air in the room was surprisingly chilly, but stuffy. Clearly, nobody had aerated the room for quite some time.  
  
With a jolt of excitement and nervousness, Harry realized that he was probably the first person to step through the door in more than three years. Taking a deep breath, and leaving the door open behind himself (just in case), Harry took another step into the room.  
  
"Lumos." A small light blossomed at his wand tip. Harry held it high above his head, trying to see as much of the room as possible.  
  
On the walls that had been completely bare three years before there were ceiling-high shelves. Shelves that were loaded with all kinds of things, for example brooms (the kind used for cleaning), old blackboards (most of them broken), a few canes (Harry gulped upon seeing them. They looked like the ones his elementary teacher had once shown Harry and his classmates when they had been discussing school as it had been fifty years before), broken torches, partially melted kettles (Harry wondered fleetingly if some of them had belonged to Neville), a few very old and very decayed still lives, and thousands of other things.  
  
In the back of the room there were a few broken tables and chairs. Harry realized that this had to be some kind of junk storeroom, which was only used for broken objects that weren't of use anymore.  
  
Everything in the room was covered in a thick layer of dust, confirming Harry's suspicions that nobody had been in the corridor for a long time. Spiders scuttled away from the light of his wand into the dark corners, cobwebs were hanging from the ceiling.  
  
Harry shuddered slightly, feeling suddenly uneasy. He had a prickling feeling of impeding danger in the back of his neck, but scolded himself for his paranoia. He was worse than Mad-Eye Moody!  
  
Slowly, Harry took another few steps into the room, away from the open door and turned to examine the shelves more closely. There was a colourful piece of glass on the nearest shelf, and Harry wondered whether it had once belonged to a window.  
  
A strange, rustling sound made Harry whirl around. Nobody was in the room. Harry took a few cautious steps toward the door.  
  
"Hello?" he called softly. "Is anybody here?"  
  
Silence. Harry gulped heavily, suddenly struck by a horrible sense of déjà vu. As if to spite him, a cold gust of wind swept through the room, raising the dust of years. Harry coughed and stumbled backward. Another gust of wind came through the opened door, this time accompanied by high, maniacal laughter.  
  
Harry gasped in fright and tried to reach the door, but at that very moment it swung shut with a horrible screeching sound. The light on Harry's wand tip extinguished itself. Harry could feel his breathing quickening and the beginnings of panic rising in his throat as he pressed his back against the shelf.  
  
The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Harry drew his cloak about himself more tightly and gathered all his Gryffindor courage.  
  
"Who- who is there?"  
  
It was meant to come out strong and fearless, but Harry was dismayed at how terrified and helpless it sounded.  
  
Another gust of cold wind came out of nothingness, pressing Harry mercilessly against the shelf. Harry gasped in pain. He couldn't breathe, the shelf was digging into his back, he was suffocating, he needed to get away from the wind- an old cauldron fell down from the shelf with an audible crash.  
  
Harry winced at the sheer noise when the cauldron hit the floor. The pressure on his ribcage and the wind disappeared. Harry stood there, in the silence, breathing heavily.  
  
The room was still pitch black, the door firmly locked. It was utterly silent. Too silent. Harry pushed himself away from the shelf and raised his wand.  
  
"Lumos," he muttered. Nothing happened. Now, Harry was truly beginning to panic.  
  
"Lumos." he tried again, a bit louder, but still without success. Harry shook his wand a little. Had it been damaged by the strange wind?  
  
"LUMOS!" he yelled, almost desperately, but his wand did not even emit a spark.  
  
A quiet chuckle sounded in the back of the room. Harry whirled around, trying to see something through the impenetrable darkness.  
  
"Who are you?" he asked again, voice trembling slightly, as he lowered his now useless wand.  
  
The chuckle sounded again, grew louder and louder, until Harry was surrounded by high-pitched, cold, maniacal cackles. They seemed to grow louder still, overwhelming Harry, consuming him. Harry backed away until he hit the shelf again, calling for help, yet nobody seemed to hear him.  
  
Meanwhile, wind was picking up again in the room, and slowly, ever so slowly, his surroundings changed. He was in the graveyard again. Harry looked around in confusion and dread, wondering what he was doing in this place again.  
  
His question was soon answered as two boys appeared out of nowhere, clutching a golden cup. Harry groaned in despair as realisation set in. It was himself and Cedric, the night of the TriWizard Tournament.  
  
Harry watched in helpless rage as Cedric was killed, as Voldemort was resurrected and he was forced to duel with the Dark Lord. He watched as his parents came out of Voldemort's wand, and as he sprinted back across the graveyard, dodging the Deatheaters' curses.  
  
Past-Harry and Cedric were whisked away by the portkey again, and Harry sank to the ground, trembling. What had happened? Why wasn't he at Hogwarts anymore? Why had he been forced to watch the third task again?  
  
As if to answer some of his questions, the scenery around him slowly faded away, and Harry was left in the pitch black hallway.  
  
An icy cold feeling passed through him, and Harry shuddered violently.  
  
"Until we meet again, Harry Potter," a voice breathed against his ear- and then it was over.  
  
His wand tip was lit, the temperature in the room returned to normal, the door sprung open soundlessly.  
  
Harry sat on the ground for a few minutes, breathing heavily and still shivering. He could not comprehend what had just happened.  
  
Shakily, Harry pushed himself up from the floor. Was he hallucinating again? Like he had the morning of his first Quidditch practice? Had it just been his imagination? Slowly, lost in thoughts, Harry began to make his way to the door- and immediately stumbled over the cauldron.  
  
Harry cursed and stared at it. The cauldron was lying on the floor. So, had all this, the wind, the voice, the laughter, the graveyard, had it all been reality?  
  
Harry thought back to his first encounter with the mysterious presence. The window had been open, even though he had closed it before. Was he not hallucinating after all? Was there something at Hogwarts, a- a bad ghost maybe, some kind of demon, haunting him?  
  
But why would anyone, or anything, do that? Was Voldemort behind it all? Harry shook his head sharply, trying to clear away all his muddled thoughts. This was going too far. He had to tell the headmaster and his godparents about his, well, encounters.  
  
Determinedly, Harry left the creepy corridor and closed the door behind himself firmly. It screeched. He realized that he had probably spent quite some time in the corridor and that breakfast would most likely be served at that very moment.  
  
With those thoughts in his head, Harry began to sprint through the deserted hallways and toward the great hall.  
  
When he had finally reached the great oak doors, Harry gave himself one minute to calm his breathing and straighten out his dishevelled robes. Then, squaring his shoulders, Harry stepped into the Great Hall- and stopped short in shock. He had been expecting to be the last person to arrive in the great hall, and the seats at the High Table were, indeed, occupied, all except for one, of course.  
  
He had, however, not expected to see the Great Hall brimming full with people. The students' tables had been pushed back into their normal positions, smaller tables had been added in the corners, and hundreds of people were sitting at these tables.  
  
But there were no students, Harry realized, only grown-ups. This confused him for a second, until he realized that all the people were wearing identical-looking uniforms: Black robes, lined with gold, and a blazing phoenix emblem on their cloaks.  
  
With a jolt of amazement and awe, Harry realized that this had to be the entire Order of the Phoenix. Not the Council members, all of whom were sitting at the staff table, but the warriors. There were so many!  
  
But Harry's presence in the great hall had not gone unnoticed. Before he could recover from the shock of seeing so many people he didn't know, one of those sitting at the head table had risen to his feet and was walking towards Harry. Harry found that he was looking somewhat familiar.....  
  
"Dedalus Diggle, Mr. Potter, we've met before, do you remember?" And it hit Harry. Of course! Diggle had once bowed to him in a shop when he had not yet known anything about the magical world, and he had shaken his hand at the Leaky Cauldron almost exactly four years before!  
  
Harry shook Diggle's hand dazedly. The man beamed.  
  
"Mr. Potter, I, that is we, just wanted to thank you for saving our lives. I'm one of the eighty-six you saved from Azkaban." Diggle had still not released his hand.  
  
".....Oh." Harry said, feeling stupid. "I mean, it was really my pleasure....." he added hastily, and to his great shock, Diggle actually hugged him. Then, the man stepped aside, and a rather young witch stepped forward, also thanking him profusely for saving her life, and hugging him.  
  
A scraping sound of many chairs indicated that more people had stood up and come to thank him, and soon Harry was surrounded by a crowd of people all applauding him and cheering for him. Some even asked for his autograph, or told him what a honour it was to have him in the Order Council.  
  
It took several loud bangs from Dumbledore's wand to calm everyone down again.  
  
"Now, really," Dumbledore scolded, walking over to a very shaken Harry and putting a hand on his shoulder. "I understand that you all want to thank young Harry here, but he hasn't even had breakfast yet. I'm sure there will be many opportunities for everyone of you to talk to him in the following few days, but not all of you at once."  
  
The Order members returned to their seats quietly, looking a little ashamed, and returned to their previous conversations. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and gave Dumbledore a small, grateful smile, which the headmaster returned brilliantly.  
  
Dumbledore steered him over to the High table, where Harry dropped down in the seat between his godparents gratefully. They both gave him a sympathetic, and, in Sirius' case, slightly amused smile, but did not comment. Harry realized with a jolt that Sirius was still in human form, but supposed that all the Order members had been informed of his innocence. Also, Hagrid was absent.  
  
"Sirius, Minerva, Remus, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, I need to talk to you after breakfast. Privately." Harry mumbled to the five of them. They all looked a little surprised, but nodded nonetheless.  
  
Harry felt uncomfortable under the stares of the Order members and finished his breakfast as quickly as possible, nodding politely to Dedalus Diggle's constant chatter. Harry supposed that, whatever mission the man had been on, was complete. Then, Harry stood and left the great hall quickly, smiling weakly at all the people who were glancing at him on his way out.  
  
It didn't take long for the others to join him in the entrance hall. They gathered around him and waited silently for whatever it was Harry wanted to tell them. But Harry felt a little nervous knowing that there were so many people in the great hall.  
  
"Let's go somewhere where we can talk privately," he suggested.  
  
The five adults nodded.  
  
"I trust that my office will do," Dumbledore offered. "Follow me, please." The six of them were silent on their way. Harry contemplated how to tell them about his strange meetings with "The Voice", as he had come to call it.  
  
Since Harry was so deep in thought, he didn't even notice when they arrived at the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office until he bumped into Professor Snape. The Potions Master glared at Harry slightly, and for a brief moment Harry had the impression that he was going to take points from Gryffindor, before he suddenly looked slightly apologetic.  
  
'Old habits die hard,' Harry thought to himself as he smiled at Snape reassuringly. Dumbledore gave the password and all of them stepped on to the moving staircase and through the wooden doors leading to the headmaster's office. To Harry's surprise, they didn't just stop there, instead Professor Dumbledore opened a door in the back of the office that Harry had never noticed before and motioned for them to follow him.  
  
They appeared to be in some kind of living room. It was much more comfortable than the office, and Harry was grateful for that. He had found long ago that it was easier to tell something when one was feeling completely relaxed.  
  
There was a fireplace on one wall of the room, while the outer wall of the castle was enchanted to show the scenery outside, like the ceiling in the great hall. The fantastic view over the Hogwarts grounds almost took Harry's breath away.  
  
In the room, there stood a moderately-sized table. Placed around it were two couches (one with three seats, one with two seats) and an armchair directly in front of the fireplace.  
  
Sirius and Remus sat down on the smaller couch, while Minerva, Dumbledore and Snape took the bigger one. That left Harry to take the armchair, which he did reluctantly. He couldn't help but feel that he was being interrogated somehow.  
  
However, the gentle warmth of the flames made Harry relax back into the chair contentedly. There was something about the chair, Harry realized. It made him feel strangely at peace and he suddenly found himself willing to spill even his deepest secrets.  
  
Harry smiled to himself when he realized that Dumbledore had led them into this room on purpose, and that it hadn't been coincidence that the other available seats in the room had been occupied so quickly.  
  
But at the moment, Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He was grateful for the relaxing charms, or whatever they were, they would help him tell his story. Though he did ask himself if the manipulative headmaster had really been in Gryffindor.  
  
Soft laughter from both couches alerted him to the fact that he had spoken that question out loud. Harry blushed.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Professor! I didn't mean to say that....."  
  
Dumbledore just smiled, his eyes twinkling brightly.  
  
"Don't worry, my dear boy. The armchair has that effect on people, though most don't realize it. However, I don't assume that you asked all of us to come up here to discuss my former house?"  
  
Harry blushed again and shook his head quickly.  
  
"Of course not. It's something a little more serious."  
  
"Fire away, Harry." Sirius prompted. Harry sighed and looked down at his hands for a few moments, biting his lip. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, thinking back to the time when he had first met The Voice.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," he asked quietly, "Are there any- well- bad ghosts in the castle? The kind that really tries to hurt people?"  
  
He heard a sharp intake of breath and sat up a little straighter, seeing that all five adults were staring at him intently.  
  
"Why are you asking me this, Harry?" the headmaster asked almost suspiciously. Seeing Harry's stubborn expression, he sighed. "Harry, do you know anything about the different kinds of ghosts? And why some people become ghosts after they die and others don't?"  
  
Harry shook his head. Dumbledore sighed more deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers.  
  
"You see, Harry," he began quietly, "There are really three different kinds of ghosts. There are the normal ghosts, like Nearly-Headless-Nick, or the Bloody Baron. Hogwarts has many of those, as you very well know."  
  
Harry nodded his head affirmatively, and Dumbledore continued.  
  
"Then, there are poltergeists. Peeves is one, obviously. What most people, mainly wizards, don't know, is that there is indeed a third kind of ghost, the Dark ghosts, or, as muggles sometimes call them, demons."  
  
Harry's eyes widened in astonishment. Demons were real?! But the headmaster ignored Harry for the moment and continued his lecture.  
  
"Now, Harry, you are probably wondering why some people become ghosts and others don't. And what kind of ghosts people can become, and why."  
  
Harry nodded again.  
  
"The truth is, Harry, that not too much is known about ghosts, even though they are a big and widely accepted part of the magical community. There are, however, two things, which all ghosts have in common: They did not accept their deaths, for whatever reasons, and they were unhappy when they died. Such people become ghosts. Do you understand so far, Harry?"  
  
Harry nodded, hanging on Dumbledore's every word. The headmaster smiled briefly, seeing that he had Harry's full attention, and continued quickly.  
  
"The majority of ghosts are normal ghosts and are completely harmless. That does not mean that they didn't do bad things when they were still alive. On the contrary, many of our Hogwarts resident ghosts have killed someone when they were still alive and could never get over their guilt. For example, let me tell you the tragic story of the four Hogwarts house ghosts:  
  
"Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, of Gryffindor, known as Nearly-Headless Nick, Lady Selena van Grimstein, of Ravenclaw, known as the Grey Lady, Baron William James of Mindleson, of Slytherin, known as the Bloody Baron, and Brother John, of Hufflepuff, known rather unflatteringly as the Fat Friar."  
  
Harry was astonished.  
  
"They all knew each other when they were alive?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"Oh yes, my dear boy. They were also the first ghosts to ever haunt Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which is why each of them was assigned to one house, the house they had been in when they were still at school. And now, let me tell you the story of the house ghosts."  
  
Harry nodded and leaned back in his chair, just listening.  
  
"When Nicholas, Selena, William and John were still at school, they were all in the same year and good friends. Back then, there wasn't a very large magical population, and in each house there were only three or four students per year. House rivalries were not far developed at that time, and inter-house mingling was quite common and encouraged.  
  
"The friendship of these four, even though they were in different houses, was not at all unusual. Everything went rather well until the four of them left Hogwarts and sadly parted ways. John went to become a friar, Nicholas went to see the world, and Selena and William both had to go back to their families who had high expectations of the two of them.  
  
It wasn't until four years later that Selena and William got married. They hadn't really wanted to, but at that time arranged marriages were a common thing. Neither of them had had any choice in the matter. However, as the years passed, the two of them slowly grew fond of each other and finally fell in love. They even had two children together."  
  
Dumbledore paused for a few moments, while Harry tried to digest everything he had just heard.  
  
"Everything was perfect for the next fifteen years. Then, when Nicholas returned from his long journey around the world- strong, handsome, powerful, full of entertaining stories and extremely charismatic- Selena van Grimstein immediately fell in love with him. And he loved her back. They had an..... affair, for almost three years. Then, one fateful evening, William returned from his work in the parliament earlier than expected and found his wife and best friend in bed together."  
  
Harry winced.  
  
"That didn't go over well, did it?" Dumbledore shook his head slowly, a wan smile playing on his lips.  
  
"No, my dear boy, it did not. Quite the contrary."  
  
Dumbledore suddenly pulled out his wand and conjured up a tray of tea and cookies and took a sip from his cup before continuing.  
  
"William confronted Nicholas in the entrance hall of his castle, which was packed with people who had heard of the happenings and had come to watch the consequences. By rights, William was allowed to kill Nicholas for cheating on him with his wife, and the population at that time was, as you probably know, very fond of executions.  
  
"What ensued was a full-blown shouting match. The insults and accusations grew worse with time, and it was not long before the fight became physical, much to the delight of the on-lookers. Unfortunately, there was an axe on the wall, an old family heirloom of the 'of Mindlesons''. In his rage, William completely lost control and grabbed the axe, attempting to behead his best friend."  
  
Harry gasped softly.  
  
"Unfortunately for Nicholas, the axe was blunt. William hit him with it no less than forty-five times until Nicholas died, which was very painful for poor Nicholas and humiliating for both of them. However, after Nicholas had died, William realized what he had done, that he had just killed his best friend. He fled from the hall and the people and killed himself on the same day."  
  
To say that Harry was shocked was an understatement. Dumbledore, however, had not finished.  
  
"When Selena realized that both of the men she loved were dead, because they had fought over her, no less, she was extremely upset, needless to say. Plagued by guilt and sadness, she fled the castle and went to a nearby abbey. At that time, most witches and wizards were religious, as were most of the muggles. Selena told the Abbot, whom she could not see, but who was no other than her school friend John, about what had happened. She never gave John time to get over his shock and try to give her advice, she fled the abbey immediately after her confession and then drowned herself in the nearby river, the Hog."  
  
Harry gasped again. This story was so tragic it almost didn't seem real.  
  
"John, now the only one of the four friends left, followed Selena and tried to stop her, but he was too late. He made sure that she was buried between her husband and lover, and then went back to the abbey. John lived there for another two years. Try as he might, he could not shake the feelings of guilt that were eating him alive.  
  
"He berated himself for having lost contact with his three best friends after Hogwarts, berated himself for not stopping William from killing Nicholas and then committing suicide , berated himself for not keeping Selena from drowning herself. He could not stand the guilt anymore, and one evening, he decided to end his life and took poison. His body was buried at Selena's, William's and Nicholas's feet."  
  
Dumbledore sighed and took another sip from his tea.  
  
"None of them ever found peace for different reasons. Nicholas could not get over his painful and humiliating murder, he could not accept his death. William never got over the knowledge that he had killed his best friend, he could not accept what he had done. Both Selena and John were plagued by their guilt and could not rest in peace because of that. All of them became ghosts, condemned to forever haunt the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, because this is where their story began."  
  
Silence filled the small room for a while, everyone was lost in their own thoughts. It was Harry who finally broke the peace of the moment.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said softly, "What about the other kinds of ghosts?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed as he leaned back into the cushions of the couch.  
  
"Ah, yes. Poltergeists. Well, Harry, you have seen now that normal ghosts are not really evil even though they may have done bad things in their lifetime. They are simply lost souls plagued by their conscience who can never find peace- though that does not mean that they cannot be happy. Our four house ghosts, for example, have long ago forgiven each other and are now friends again.  
  
"But I was going to tell you about poltergeists. Ah, yes, poltergeists..... Harry, surely by now you have noticed the main difference between Peeves and, say, Nearly-Headless Nick?"  
  
Harry nodded as he bit his lip thoughtfully for a few moments.  
  
"Yes, Peeves can touch things, whereas Nick and the others just float through everything. Peeves can rattle armours and the like. Also, he seems to enjoy tormenting students very much." Harry added doubtfully.  
  
Dumbledore beamed with pride.  
  
"Excellent, Harry! And that is exactly the point. Peeves was once a normal ghost, just like Nick. But while Nick and the others accepted their existence as ghosts, Peeves could never do that. He envied the humans living in this castle because they were still alive, much like our caretaker envies all of you students for your ability to do magic.  
  
"Peeves envied the living people so much that he wanted to make their life miserable. He started with taunts and insults, and over time he managed to solidify his body again through pure will power so that he was able to touch again.  
  
"Poltergeists are really the most pitiful beings in existence, together with the dementors. Because Poltergeists are neither dead nor alive, they are stuck between two worlds, unable to enter one and unwilling to enter the other. There are few poltergeists in existence, because there are few ghosts who resent their second life, as the ghost-being is called, so much, that they can solidify. Also, most of the normal ghosts don't envy wizards for their body, because most of them feel they deserved death even though they cannot accept death itself."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"What about Moaning Myrtle?" he asked curiously. "She seemed to be envious of us sometimes in second year. Will she become a poltergeist one day?"  
  
Dumbledore chuckled.  
  
"Oh no, my dear boy! While I agree that Myrtle is most likely a little envious, she does not have the necessary willpower to become a poltergeist. No, no..... none of the ghosts in the castle will ever become poltergeists- aside from Peeves, of course, who already is one."  
  
Harry nodded again. He was reluctant to bring up the next question, but knew that it had to be done.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, what about the third kind of ghosts? The demons?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded grimly.  
  
"The demons. I must confess, Harry, that I do not know too much about them. Nobody does, and, as I already told you, most wizards doubt their existence. That is mainly because demons are so rare. There is only about one demon every millennium. It is curious that muggles once knew of the demons' existence, whereas wizards have always turned a blind eye."  
  
Harry frowned.  
  
"But today, muggles don't really believe in demons anymore, like wizards. They consider demons, ghosts, and everything else that has to do with magic, fairytales. How did they forget?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed again, deeply this time.  
  
"Ah, Harry, the problem with most wizards is that they consider themselves superior to muggles and the other living beings. Many can't accept that there are creatures who might be even more powerful and dangerous than they are. So wizards refused to acknowledge the demons' presence.  
  
"Muggles, on the other hand, lived in harmony with nature for a long time. They recognised demons when they saw them, they had the good sense to stay away from them. It wasn't until many centuries later that the muggles began to find alternatives to magic. They developed their admittedly impressive technology so far that they are by now almost equal to magical beings, and with their increasing ability to control and influence everything around them, they made the same mistake the wizards made centuries before:  
  
"They began to think of themselves as better than anything else. It is sad really, but soon they forgot about the existence of magic and ghosts and demons, leaving only the fairytales behind. Most wizards today don't even know what demons are."  
  
Harry nodded again. So, it was arrogance that had made the muggles forget about magic. And it was the same arrogance that had made wizards resent the idea of an existence of beings who might be more powerful than them; demons.  
  
"Professor- what are demons?"  
  
Dumbledore furrowed his brows.  
  
"Harry, very little is known about the origin of demons. Fact is, that they were once wizards or witches striving for immortality. Nobody has ever succeeded in becoming fully immortal, at least no human being, but there are people who have come close, very close.  
  
"My friend Nicholas Flamel, for example, with his development of the Philosopher's Stone. He found a relatively safe method. Your ancestor, Godric Gryffindor himself, was also looking for a way to achieve eternal life, though nothing is known about whether or not he succeeded. But there are other, darker ways, Harry. There are magical rituals so horrible and dangerous that you wouldn't understand them, that are rumoured to be able to give people eternal life. Many wizards have undergone them, but most of them have died, either in the process or simply from old age.  
  
"There are, however, a few who succeeded, at least partially. Only the most powerful ever came this far. They did not manage to keep their bodies, but after their death, were able to somehow continue existing as evil spirits, or demons. Demons have no body, and like ghosts, are unable to touch. They do, however, posses a considerable amount of magical powers, and in rare cases are even able to possess the bodies of living beings."  
  
Harry could feel his throat constrict almost painfully. What Dumbledore had told him about demons so far fit exactly in the description of The Voice.  
  
Silence reigned the small room for some time. Everyone was still trying to absorb what they had just heard.  
  
"Mr. Potter," Snape said finally, "What was it that you wanted to tell us about?"  
  
Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair.  
  
"It started the day of my first Quidditch practice," he said quietly, trying to remember exactly what had happened. "I took my morning swim, as usual. But when I returned to my room, someone knocked on the portrait hole. I quickly threw on some clothes and called for them to come in, but nobody came."  
  
Harry paused for a moment.  
  
"After a few seconds, I went over and opened the portrait myself, but nobody was there."  
  
Sirius raised an eyebrow doubtfully.  
  
"And that's it? Harry, while I admit that this is strange, it was probably just a house elf or something-"  
  
Harry glared slightly at his godfather. "Sirius, that was not all! Let me finish."  
  
Sirius grinned apologetically.  
  
"As I said, nobody was there. Just as I was about to step outside, the window behind me slammed open. I whirled around and approached it, when the temperature in the room suddenly seemed to drop and an icy gust of wind went through it. Then, the portrait hole behind me slammed shut as well. By that time, I was starting to panic, and then there was laughter, high, cold, evil laughter, it sounded like Voldemort's....."  
  
Harry shuddered and took a deep breath.  
  
"I yelled 'STOP!' as loudly as I could- and it really did stop. The temperature was back to normal, the laughter was gone, the wind had died down- but the window was still open."  
  
Harry heard Dumbledore take in a sharp breath.  
  
"Harry, why didn't you tell us? You should have told us immediately! This was important!"  
  
Harry cringed at the headmaster's uncharacteristically harsh words and tone.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said awkwardly, "I thought I was hallucinating at the time. Of course, the window was still open, but I convinced myself that I had opened it earlier and forgotten about it. And Merlin, the portrait that is, said that nobody had been there. I really thought it hadn't been real!"  
  
The five others nodded.  
  
"What changed your mind?" Remus asked quietly.  
  
Harry sighed again.  
  
"This morning, when I was going down to breakfast, I had another encounter with that- thing. It happened in the third floor corridor. You know, the one that was out of bounds in first year?"  
  
The three Hogwarts professors nodded. Remus and Sirius just looked confused.  
  
"Harry, whatever possessed you to go into that corridor?" Minerva asked with a frown. "It isn't on the way from the infirmary to the Great Hall."  
  
Harry shook his head and smiled sheepishly. "I know, I just- saw the door on the other end of the corridor- and I wondered what was behind it when there was no three-headed dog guarding one of the most valuable and dangerous items ever in existence-"  
  
His godmother shook her head.  
  
"You do know they say that curiosity killed the kneazle, Harry," she sighed.  
  
"Harry," Sirius interrupted, "What are you talking about? Three-headed dogs? Guarding? A dangerous item?"  
  
Harry groaned inwardly.  
  
"That's a long story, Sirius, and it's not important right now. I'll tell you later some time, alright?"  
  
Sirius looked like he wanted to argue, but Remus elbowed him in the ribs and shook his head.  
  
Harry continued.  
  
"So, I entered the corridor and lit my wand, as there were no windows in the room. It was apparently used as some kind of junk store room, everything I could see in there was either old, or broken, or both."  
  
Again, the Professors nodded in affirmation. Harry frowned.  
  
"This is when the strange things began happening again. You see, I'd just stepped closer to one of the boards, when suddenly the door slammed shut behind me. The temperature in the room dropped, the light on my wand died down, and the strange wind picked up again, coming out of nowhere.  
  
"Then, I could suddenly hear the strange cackling again, and I panicked, and suddenly I was thrown backwards against the shelves and held there by an invisible force. By the time it finally released me, a cauldron had fallen to the ground, I'd nearly been suffocated, and my back hurt like hell."  
  
Harry grimaced at the pain he was still feeling. Dumbledore frowned and leaned forward in his seat.  
  
"Harry, please take off your shirt."  
  
Harry obeyed with a sigh and turned around, letting the room's occupants see his back. There were five gasps.  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked anxiously. Dumbledore gave him a rather tight- lipped and not-quite-reassuring smile.  
  
"There is a bruise on your back from where the shelf must have been. It is rather severe. Please allow me to tend to it."  
  
Harry shrugged and nodded. Dumbledore pulled out his wand and touched it gently to Harry's back. He muttered a few well-chosen words, and the pain disappeared with a faint tingling sensation. Harry sighed in relief and pulled his shirt back on.  
  
Dumbledore resumed his seat on the couch. He motioned for Harry to continue his story.  
  
"So, as I was saying, the force released me, but the wind and laughter did not cease. On the contrary, they became louder and stronger, they began to overwhelm me until I thought I would black out, and then, suddenly, the scenery around me changed. I was no longer in the dark store room, I was on the graveyard."  
  
Nobody in the room needed to ask what 'the graveyard' was. Harry stared into the flames for a few moments.  
  
"I didn't know what I was doing there, until two boys appeared out of nowhere, clutching a cup.....It was Cedric and I.  
  
"I watched," he said quietly. "I had to watch the night of the third task, until I- that is, my past self- disappeared with Cedric's body and the cup. Then, the scene faded again and I was back in the store room. I heard a voice whisper, 'Until we meet again, Mr. Potter.' and then it was over. The temperature was back to normal, the door reopened, my wand was lit- but the cauldron was still on the floor."  
  
Dumbledore released a sharp breath and leaned back on the couch, apparently in deep thought. The room's occupants didn't make a sound, knowing that the headmaster was the one most likely to figure out who, or what, the mysterious ghost-like being was.  
  
They sat in silence for almost five minutes, tension mounting by the second. Harry began to fidget in his armchair, hardly able to stand the uneasiness in the room. Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief when the headmaster seemed to come to a decision and sat up straighter.  
  
"Harry. After everything you have told us, it seems to me that we do indeed have a dark ghost here at Hogwarts. Though there are parts that make no sense to me." Dumbledore paused for a moment, letting his words sink in.  
  
"Firstly, the being has already attacked you twice. Twice in two days, if you don't count the time you spent in the infirmary. Even dark ghosts are not usually that hostile, unless the humans have done something to offend them. And then, they usually attack randomly, they don't focus their anger on one victim."  
  
Harry gulped. Somehow, the headmaster's words didn't reassure him at all. He clutched the armrests of his chair tightly.  
  
"Secondly, there aren't supposed to be any demons in this time. Voldemort was half-demon, with some of a demon's abilities, before he regained his body a few weeks ago, even though I doubt that he is aware of this fact. The last full demon existed one thousand five hundred years ago- a wizard named Septimius, he was destroyed in the year 495. In the past millennium, there haven't been too many dark wizards. And none of them, aside from Septimius and Voldemort, were able to become demons, though they all strived for immortality. Not even Grindelwald, who was possibly the most powerful dark lord after Septimius and Voldemort, managed."  
  
Harry swallowed again. He had known from Professor Binns's history lessons that Grindelwald had indeed been a VERY powerful wizard. The fact that not even he had had enough power to become a demon was highly disconcerting- how much power did the demon that haunted Harry possess? But Dumbledore wasn't done.  
  
"Thirdly, and most importantly, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, intently, "Even a demon shouldn't be able to make you see your worst memory. Such a spell requires a lot of power, more power than even a demon should have, and the demon must know you fairly well. It must have been watching you for quite some time now."  
  
Harry closed his eyes. No, no, no. This wasn't happening to him. Was a dark wizard who was after his blood not enough? Wasn't it enough that he, Harry, a not-even-fifteen-damn-years-old wizard was burdened with the destiny of destroying said dark wizard, who was the most powerful of his kind in a long time? Did he need a crazy demon-ghost on top of everything?  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore said seriously, "I probably don't have to tell you how serious this situation is. The demon, whoever it is, is obviously powerful enough to hurt, and maybe even possess you." Dumbledore sighed and leaned back on the couch. "From now on, you can't go anywhere alone. Someone must always be with you, even at night. I'm sorry, Harry, but it's for your own good."  
  
Harry groaned. Great. It seemed like a repeat of third year, when teachers had made up excuses to follow him around everywhere to protect him from the mass murderer Sirius Black. Had he not been in such a bad mood, Harry might have laughed hysterically.  
  
Dumbledore looked apologetic.  
  
"I really am sorry, Harry, but there is no other way." Harry sighed and nodded. Everyone lapsed into silence again, lost in their own thoughts. Harry couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had missed something, he knew it..... something important...... really important.....  
  
*Your mother is coming, Harry..... She wants to see you..... hold on......*  
  
*I killed your father first..... he put up a courageous fight.....*  
  
*Do you understand, Harry?*  
  
*One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed- in reverse. The most recent first..... and then those which preceded it.....*  
  
*The most recent first.....*  
  
*Do you understand, Harry?*  
  
*Do you understand?*  
  
*Understand?*  
  
*UNDERSTAND?*  
  
Harry gasped loudly.  
  
"But- that's impossible! That's simply impossible! Why would he lie? Why? He was gloating about it, it doesn't make sense, he came out first-"  
  
Harry stopped when he realized that he was rambling and that the others didn't have a clue what he was talking about.  
  
"Harry?" Minerva asked uncertainly. "Are you alright?"  
  
Harry nodded, feeling breathless from his discovery.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine, just- it doesn't make any sense!"  
  
Professor Snape leaned forward.  
  
"What does not make any sense?" he asked a little sharply. The familiar tone of voice served to snap Harry out of his daze.  
  
"The Priori Incantatem!" Harry blurted out.  
  
"The Priori Incantatem?" said Dumbledore with a slight frown. "Please explain yourself, Harry."  
  
Harry was breathing heavily.  
  
"The- it's just, Professor Dumbledore, I just realized- the night of the TriWizard Tournament, I told you what happened, the Priori Incantatem-"  
  
Dumbledore nodded patiently.  
  
"Well, now that the demon made me relive those memories, I realized that something was not right!"  
  
Harry paused for a moment, trying to gather his rather jumbled thoughts and emotions.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, you remember how you told me what Priori Incantatem does? That it makes echoes of spells the wand cast appear, in reverse order?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded, his eyes fixed on Harry's face intently.  
  
"And you all know how Voldemort killed my parents? How he killed my Dad first, and then my Mum?"  
  
Everyone nodded.  
  
"Well, that can't be right, because on the graveyard my Dad's echo came out of the wand before my Mum's!"  
  
Stunned silence followed that statement. One could have heard a pin drop.  
  
"Are you quite sure about this, Harry?" Dumbledore asked sharply.  
  
"Positive."  
  
Dumbledore drew in a sharp breath.  
  
"Then that is indeed quite curious," he said quietly. "Please stay here for a moment, I will be right back."  
  
The headmaster stood and swept out of the room quickly. Nobody talked, or even moved for about two minutes, until Dumbledore returned, a heavy old volume in his hands. He resumed his seat, put the book down in the table and opened the index. Harry's gaze followed the headmaster's long finger as it slowly glided down the page. It stopped somewhere in the 'P'-section. Harry squinted a little, trying to see where exactly.  
  
'Priori Incantatem, the reverse-spell effect, page 937'  
  
Dumbledore leafed through the book, stopping somewhere halfway through and pushing his half-moon spectacled higher up his nose. He read silently for a few minutes. Minerva and Snape leaned over his shoulders, trying to read as well. After a few minutes Dumbledore shut the book with a bang, making Harry flinch slightly.  
  
"Harry," the old headmaster said wearily, "It is as I thought. The Priori Incantatem does not produce echoes of spells in the order in which they were cast. Now, most people, including myself until a few minutes ago, don't know about this. It is usually not important either, because most of the time, it doesn't make a difference. Spells tend to take effect in the order they are cast. Just in this case, they apparently did not."  
  
Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his seat.  
  
"You see, Harry, the Priori Incantatem is very rare. Not only because most wands don't have more than one brother and those two wands are more often than not sold many decades apart, but also because the two people who wield the wands must be very similar."  
  
Dumbledore held up a hand to silence Harry's vehement protest.  
  
"Now, I know you don't like to hear this, Harry, but you do realize that there are a lot of similarities between yourself and Tom Riddle. Which doesn't change the fact that you are a very good person, and Voldemort is not. However, this is not what I was trying to say. When two people are similar, they usually also make the same decisions. In other words, it is highly unusual, even unheard of, to have to brother wands fighting each other on different sides of a war."  
  
Harry frowned. He had known that Priori Incantatem was rare, but he hadn't thought it was THAT rare.  
  
"Harry." Harry returned his attention to the present and to his headmaster. "There has only ever been one case before which was similar to your and Tom Riddle's case. In 281 B.C., two wizards with brother wands duelled each other in a friendly combat. One of them had cast a shielding spell on himself, which protected him from certain curses. Now, the other wizard shot such a curse, a Confusion curse, and it had trouble getting through the shield. While the curse was still trying to get through, the wizard shot another curse, a tickling charm, this one was not blocked by the shield, and hit seconds before the first curse finally managed to shatter the protection and hit its target."  
  
Dumbledore paused for a second, giving everyone time to digest that information.  
  
"Not much later, both wizards shot curses at the same time, and their wands connected. The wizard who had cast the shielding charm, though less powerful magically, won the battle of wills, and so his opposite's wand was forced to regurgitate the spells it cast in reverse order. Imagine their surprise when the Confusion Curse's echo came out of the wand before the tickling charm!"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"So, the wand really produces echoes of spells in the order they took effect, not in the order they were cast."  
  
Dumbledore beamed.  
  
"Exactly, my boy! And do you know what that means?"  
  
Harry stared straight ahead unseeingly for a few moments, hardly daring to believe the consequences this one discovery brought with it.  
  
"My Dad survived the killing curse," he whispered to himself, with difficulty. "Sweet Merlin, he wasn't dead! He survived..... he was alive....."  
  
Harry felt numb. Numb and dizzy. His head was buzzing with thoughts and confusion, his mind screaming how impossible that was, his breathing ragged.....  
  
Someone shook his shoulder roughly. Harry snapped out of his daze.  
  
"...Sorry?" he muttered distractedly. Sirius was kneeling in front of his armchair.  
  
"Harry, are you alright?"  
  
Harry's eyes glazed over slightly.  
  
"Yeah, I'm right..... I mean, I'm alright....." Harry heard a faint snort, and then someone was pressing a bottle to his lips and tilted his head back. Harry swallowed reflexively. Immediately, the world slipped back into focus. Harry blinked, feeling confused.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Professor Snape stood back up and pocketed the bottle in his hands.  
  
"You were going into shock," he stated matter-of-factly, "Be glad that I always have a few first-aid potions with me, Mr. Potter."  
  
Harry smiled.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
He turned his attention to Dumbledore.  
  
"Professor, is it really true? Did my Dad survive the killing curse?"  
  
Dumbledore looked pensive.  
  
"It certainly seems so, from what we know," he said, a thoughtful frown on his face. "And that explains a lot."  
  
Harry furrowed his brows in confusion.  
  
"I don't understand, Professor," he confessed quietly.  
  
Dumbledore smiled a little.  
  
"Harry, I'm afraid that I must admit to not telling you the whole truth when we were discussing Voldemort's defeat a few weeks ago. I assume that Voldemort told you that you survived that fateful Halloween night because of your mother's protection?"  
  
Harry nodded with a frown. What was Dumbledore getting at?  
  
"Well, Harry, he didn't tell you everything, though I'm not sure if he even knows. Of course, Lily's sacrifice helped protect your life when the killing curse hit you, but it wasn't the sole reason for your survival. Many mothers died for their children in the time of Voldemort's reign, and two or three of them even cast the Praesidium Sensus. Yet none of their children lived. I have wondered for years what it was that made you so special, and I think we now have the answer."  
  
Harry was still feeling confused. Dumbledore's eyes were still twinkling.  
  
"I already told you that Godric Gryffindor tried to achieve immortality while he was still alive. It seems that even though he has not succeeded, some of his protections against death have been passed down in the Gryffindor lineage. Your father, apparently, very nearly survived Avada Kedavra. It was your Gryffindor blood, combined with Lily's 'Praesidium Sensus' -incantation, that saved your life fourteen years ago."  
  
Harry nodded, solemnly. He suddenly felt the unbearable urge to take a walk outside and clear his head.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, "I'd like to go outside for a while, alone. Would that be possible?" Immediately, Minerva, Sirius Remus and Snape protested. But Dumbledore held up his hands to silence them.  
  
"I don't think it will be a problem," the headmaster said firmly. "As long as someone escorts you to the castle doors. Demons, unless they are possessing anyone, are bound to one place, a building most of the time. In the case of our demon, he is obviously bound to Hogwarts. You are free to walk on the grounds whenever you like. But, Harry, as soon as you decide to re-enter the castle, call either Minerva, Severus, Sirius, Remus or myself. You mustn't be alone in the castle, do you understand?"  
  
Harry nodded, feeling relieved.  
  
"Thank you, Professor."  
  
Dumbledore smiled and glanced at his watch.  
  
"Dear me! Look at the time! Harry, I think you should take your walk after lunch. We are already late."  
  
Harry sighed, he longed for fresh air, hoping it would clear his head, but nodded. They left the cosy living room and went back through the headmaster's office and down the moving staircase.  
  
Harry was silent the whole way to the great hall. Too many thoughts were crammed into his mind. His head was starting to hurt. Harry ignored the whispers and stares of the Order members and plopped down in his seat at the high table.  
  
He ate quickly and silently. None of the other people sitting at the head table interrupted him, seemingly understanding that Harry wanted, needed, to be left alone for a while. Harry finished his meal before anyone else and quickly excused himself. He left the Great Hall (leaving the doors open) and crossed the Entrance Hall. This time, no strange voice appeared out of nowhere, no one attacked Harry, the temperature of the room stayed the same. Harry opened the Front doors with a small sigh of relief and stepped outside.  
  
It was a nice day. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees in the nearby forest, bumblebees and butterflies soared through the air. It was warm outside and Harry felt grateful that he had only worn shorts and a T- shirt.  
  
Almost automatically, Harry's feet carried him slowly into the direction of the gardens. He admired the rose bushes as he passed by and stopped to watch two young rabbits play in the back of the garden with a smile.  
  
The air was heavy and tasted sweet with summer warmth and the smell of flowers surrounding him. With a content sigh, Harry lay down on a patch of grass and closed his eyes, enjoying the sun. He allowed his jumbled thoughts to consume him for a while, straightening them out as well as he could. At the same time, he had a feeling that he had forgotten something important- something to do with the gardens..... but Harry really couldn't be bothered right now, he had enough on his plate.  
  
Lying lazily in the sunshine and watching the small insects all around him made Harry feel content and heavy with tiredness. After a few minutes, he allowed his eyelids to droop.....  
  
~*~  
  
Something tickled his nose. Harry waved it away indignantly, still half asleep. But only a few seconds later, the annoying sensation returned. Harry scrunched up his face and sneezed, effectively waking himself up.  
  
Grumbling to himself, he opened his eyes and sat up, just in time to see a small butterfly speeding away from him.  
  
Sighing to himself, Harry realized that the sun had moved from its previous position quite a bit. It had to be around four o'clock in the afternoon. That meant that he still had a few hours until dinner and the Order Council Meeting.  
  
Harry got up and stretched lazily, then leaned against the tree. Again, he had the strange feeling that he had forgotten something important, something to do with the garden...... Biting his lip, he tried to remember what it was.  
  
A small bird sang in a nearby hedge..... Hedge? The secret garden! The Realm of the Four! Harry could have hit himself for forgetting. All traces of tiredness falling away quickly, he began to sprint through the gardens. The way seemed to be endless. Had it been that long when he had been there the first time?  
  
Growling in frustration, Harry slowed down. It would not do to tire himself out, Madam Pomfrey would have his head. Forcing himself to walk at a normal pace, Harry strained his eyes, trying to spot the hedge surrounding the last garden.  
  
After a few more minutes of walking, it loomed ahead. Harry smiled in excitement and relief and sped up just a little. He reached the hedge in no time and began searching it carefully for the section where the leaves were thinning.  
  
He stuck his hand through the curtain of leaves and watched in wonder as the hedge opened up again.  
  
Everything was as he remembered it, only that the gate was suddenly very clean. Not a speck of dust or moss was on it, and Harry found himself wondering who had cleaned it. Had someone else been at this place?  
  
Shrugging, Harry pushed against the gate. At first he thought it wouldn't budge, but then it slowly swung open with a terrible screeching sound.  
  
'Well,' Harry thought dryly, 'Whoever cleaned this gate sure forgot to oil its hinges.'  
  
The strange mist wafted around Harry as he entered the secret garden. Frowning slightly, Harry asked himself if he had to take the stupid test again- when a golden glow appeared in front of him again.  
  
"Welcome, Harry Potter, to the Realm of the Four. Follow me, please." The sweet, gentle voice that had already greeted him at his last visit had reappeared. Shrugging to himself, Harry decided to follow its order. Unlike the last time, the fog had not dissipated, and walking off on his own would only get him lost.  
  
They walked in silence for a few minutes. Harry was just starting to get impatient and contemplating if he should try to talk to the golden glow, when a huge shape appeared in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere. Harry squinted, trying to make out what it was, but the fog was too dense.  
  
Unconsciously, Harry sped up a little, and suddenly the fog around him fell away, leaving him standing in front of- Harry gasped.  
  
It was a castle, not quite as big as Hogwarts, but still enormous. Pure white, the roofs and shutters seemingly made of gold, the countless windows sparkling in the sunshine, it was a sight that would have stunned even the Dark Lord himself into silence.  
  
"If you are done gaping at the castle like an idiot, please follow me inside." The golden glow commented dryly. Harry sputtered in indignation, but the glow was already speeding ahead.  
  
"Well, I bet you were stunned by this castle the first time you saw it, too, you overgrown light bulb," Harry muttered indignantly.  
  
The golden glow stopped suddenly and flew back until it was hovering mere inches in front of Harry's face.  
  
"What was that?" The voice came again, somehow less sweet and more dangerous. Harry gulped as the light swelled and was suddenly twice its original size.  
  
"Um, I said, 'Wow, look at the sun, it looks like an overgrown light bulb'?"  
  
The light shrunk again and Harry had the strange feeling that it was looking at him weirdly.  
  
"Alright, then," the voice said, back to its sweet self. Then- "What is a light bulb?"  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
"Never mind. Aren't you going to take me into the castle?"  
  
The light bobbed up and down in midair, as if it was nodding, then sped away from Harry again.  
  
'Demons, worshipping Order members, people surviving Avada Kedavra, talking light bulbs- can this day get any more weird?'  
  
~*~  
  
The entrance Hall was enormous. Lined with marble pillars, the ceiling see- through, like Hogwarts's, golden chandeliers floating in mid-air, the walls a blinding white, the floor covered in a thick, royal blue carpeting- Harry felt as though he had entered a fairytale. The golden glow waited patiently for a few moments, then it sped away again, up a marble staircase on Harry's right. Tearing his eyes away from the stunning castle, Harry hurriedly followed it.  
  
Portraits lined the walls of the numerous corridors they were passing. Portraits of fairies, unicorns, dragons and phoenixes, but also of humans. Some of them seemed quite familiar to Harry, though he didn't have time to ponder why.  
  
After a few minutes, Harry was hopelessly lost. They seemed to be going in circles as far as he was concerned, hurrying up some staircases, then down again, taking left turns, then right turns, then left again- not even Hogwarts had been this confusing in the beginning.  
  
After a few more minutes of seemingly senseless running, they came to an abrupt halt in front of gigantic wooden doors. They were very dark, ebony, Harry guessed. The glow seemed to be eyeing him expectantly.  
  
"What," Harry asked. "Do you want me to knock?"  
  
The glow bobbed up and down in midair. Harry took that as a yes. Taking a deep breath and inwardly steeling himself for any unpleasant surprises to come, Harry raised his fist and knocked three times on the doors.  
  
The sound echoed strangely through the hallway, despite there being carpets and curtains, and Harry could not suppress a slight shudder. Slowly, and completely noiselessly, the doors swung open.  
  
Harry stared in awe at the room in front of him. It was gigantic, as far as he could see. The ceiling was high, almost as high as the ceiling in Hogwarts's great hall, but it was solid, painted beautifully like the dark night sky. The walls of the room were lined with bookshelves. Harry had no doubt that there were even more books than in Hogwarts's library.  
  
The wall across from Harry was one huge window. Through the glass front, one could overlook the strange secret garden and a good portion of the Hogwarts grounds. Squinting slightly, Harry even thought that he could make out the castle itself in the distance.  
  
In the left part of the room, there stood a long table with many empty chairs around it.. Several ancient looking tomes were placed on it every two or three chairs. The three books closest to him read, 'Potions', 'Transfigurations' and 'Charms'. Harry frowned in puzzlement.  
  
Someone cleared his throat behind Harry. Harry gasped and whirled around. The right side of the room was furnished with a couch and two armchairs, all of them very comfortable looking. A small table stood in-between them. On the wall, there was the biggest fireplace Harry had ever seen. A nice, antique-looking clock hang on the wall above it.  
  
And on the couch and in one of the armchairs, there were four people.  
  
The one in the armchair was a man, tall, slim, with long, dark hair and rather pale skin, eyes piercing and blue, not unlike Dumbledore's. He was looking at Harry with a tiny smile on his face.  
  
On his left sat another man with dark blond, shoulder-length hair, tanned skin and friendly, light blue eyes. He, too, was rather tall and slim, though definitely muscular. Unlike the other man, he was smiling broadly, his eyes twinkling, again reminding Harry of Hogwarts's esteemed headmaster.  
  
On the man's left sat a woman. She had long, pitch black hair, light green eyes, and rather pale skin. She, too, was smiling gently at Harry, looking strangely– wise at the same time. Harry got the feeling that this woman could see into his very soul and began to ask himself if he was somehow looking at Dumbledore's ancestors.  
  
The couch's third occupant was another woman. Unlike the other three, she seemed to be rather short and a little plump and reminded Harry uncannily of Mrs. Weasley with her red hair, freckled skin and kind face. She was positively beaming at Harry.  
  
All of them seemed to be in their mid-thirties.  
  
"Um, hi," Harry said awkwardly, "I'm sorry to intrude, but the- the glow told me to follow-"  
  
Harry trailed off when he realized that the glow had conveniently disappeared. A deep chuckle behind him roused him from his thoughts. It was the man with the dark blond hair.  
  
"Don't mind Keereelalia," the man said, getting up from his seat and walking towards Harry. "She always goes where she wants. Keereelalia is a faerie."  
  
He paused in front of Harry and stuck out his hand.  
  
"I'm pleased to meet you, young man, you must be Harry Potter, the boy who passed our test so easily a few days ago. I think it is safe to say that you impressed Keereelalia, even though she would never admit it. Oh yes, I am Godric Gryffindor, and these are Salazar Slytherin" – he pointed to the man in the armchair- "Rowena Ravenclaw" – he pointed to the dark-haired woman- "and Helga Hufflepuff." – he indicated the woman who reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley.  
  
Harry gaped at the four people and slowly started to back away. Now he knew why all those portraits had seemed so familiar. He had seen them in his history book.  
  
"Oh please, don't be frightened," the dark-haired woman, Ravenclaw, spoke up. "We are not going to hurt you, Harry. I realize that it must be a shock for you, seeing us here alive, but I can assure you that we are not completely real. We are memories, so to speak, of Godric, Salazar, Helga and Rowena when they were thirty-six. We have been around for more than a thousand years, and we will be around for all eternity unless something goes wrong. We are really not more than ghosts, even though we are, of course, solid."  
  
Harry's back had hit a wall. He pointed shakily towards 'Slytherin'.  
  
"He- he is evil," he said, half questioningly, half accusingly.  
  
Slytherin huffed indignantly as he stood up.  
  
"No, I'm not," he said, "at least not yet. I do realize that my older self went 'evil', as you call it- strived for immortality, built the Chamber of Secrets, learned Dark Magic, despised muggle-born students- but I am still a light wizard. Believe me, Harry, had I been a dark wizard from the start, those three here would not have allowed me to found Hogwarts with them. I do not know what triggered the change of mind, as there are no reliable sources on it, and I never got a chance to talk to my older self while he was still alive. I am also aware of the havoc my so-called heir was causing a few years ago- I am deeply sorry about that, and I assure you, I had nothing to do with it."  
  
Something in the man's eyes told Harry that he was telling the truth, and he relaxed a little.  
  
"Why don't you sit down first, Harry, and then we can talk." A kind voice spoke up. It was Helga Hufflepuff. Harry sighed and pushed himself away from the wall. He walked over to the free armchair and sat down warily, still eyeing the four 'memories'.  
  
Slytherin and Gryffindor resumed their seats as well.  
  
"Right," Gryffindor said briskly, "Why don't you tell us something about yourself and the outside world, Harry? It is so seldom that we get visitors here. The last one was, what, sixteen years ago?"  
  
"Really?" Harry's interest was perked. "Who was it?"  
  
Ravenclaw smiled almost dreamily.  
  
"A young girl, very nice young lady, in her last year at Hogwarts- a Gryffindor. Her name was Lily Evans. Do you know her? She was visiting quite regularly even after she had graduated, we know that she was pregnant and she even once brought her new-born son here- and then she suddenly disappeared. We never heard from her agai- are you alright?"  
  
Harry stared at the table unseeingly. He was only dimly aware of what Ravenclaw was saying. His mother had been here! These- people- had known her! His mother- oh my god oh my god oh my god- A sharp pain on his cheek snapped him out of his daze. Slytherin was standing in front of him.  
  
"Sorry 'bout that, Harry," he said apologetically, "You were in a daze. It was the only thing I could think of."  
  
Harry nodded dazedly, absentmindedly rubbing his stinging cheek.  
  
"Care to explain to us, Harry, why this news shocked you so much?" Gryffindor asked, eyeing Harry curiously. Harry bowed his head. Could he trust these people? But then again, they had known his mother, and she had obviously trusted them.  
  
"I-"Harry started quietly, but broke off. "She- I mean, she is- well, she was- my mother."  
  
Four gasps could be heard. Suddenly, Harry found himself in a bone-crushing hug from Hufflepuff.  
  
"You're her son! Of course, you're Harry! Oh, Harry, it's so good to see you again, I haven't seen you in fourteen years!"  
  
Harry felt a little uncomfortable and was glad when Hufflepuff let go.  
  
"So, um-"Harry said uncomfortably, after she had settled down again. "Who else was here?"  
  
Slytherin answered.  
  
"After your mother? No one, actually. It was starting to get quite dull here until you came. Before your mother, there were a few people, though not as many as you would think in thousand years."  
  
He paused and leaned back in his seat. "Let's see. Before your mother came here, my- heir- tried to gain entrance to this place when he was in his fourth year. However, he did not pass the test. He killed the spider, the kitten, and even the unicorn."  
  
Harry gasped slightly, knowing what crime it was to kill such a pure creature.  
  
"Before my heir, there was a sixteen-year-old boy called Albus Dumbledore. He was very bright, powerful too, definitely a good man. But he was denied access to this place many years later, after he had committed his first kill, sadly."  
  
Harry frowned.  
  
"Dumbledore? You forbade Dumbledore to come here? Why?"  
  
"Because he killed, Harry," Hufflepuff explained patiently. "Nobody who has willingly killed another being is allowed to enter here. That the being was the dark wizard Grindelwald and that Albus's kill was for the good does unfortunately not matter here. It's the rules, you know?"  
  
Harry lowered his head.  
  
"But- I killed, too, I mean, it's my fault that Cedric died-"he said quietly.  
  
"I doubt that," Gryffindor explained cheerfully, "You wouldn't have been allowed to set foot on this land if you had killed anyone. Does this Cedric's death have anything to do with whatever happened to Lily?"  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
"I guess you could say that. Well, indirectly."  
  
The founders looked at him with raised eyebrows. Harry groaned in frustration.  
  
"It would take ages to explain everything- you would have to know about my whole life to understand-"  
  
"Ah, but we can do that," Ravenclaw interrupted. "If you trust us enough, Harry, there is a rather simple, ancient spell that will allow us to see what we need to see."  
  
Harry frowned. Did he really want these people, practically complete strangers, to see what had happened to him? But Harry felt pity for these 'memories'. They could never get out of the castle, never see what happened in the outside world, and their only chance to get any news was to question the students that found the secret garden by accident. And there had been only three in the past century, apparently: Harry himself, his mother and Dumbledore. So, Harry nodded firmly.  
  
"Do it."  
  
The founders smiled and stood around Harry's armchair.  
  
"Lily and Albus decided the same, you know," Gryffindor said. "We are very grateful. Please, Harry, just close your eyes and try not to fight us, then we'll be done in no time."  
  
Harry nodded and closed his eyes. He could hear four voices muttering some kind of incantation, then felt four wandtips being touched to his forehead. It was the weirdest sensation, as though someone was moving stuff around in his head (which they probably were). Harry's first impulse was to fight the intruders, but he forced himself to remain passive.  
  
It lasted for a good five minutes, then the strange feeling ebbed away and the wandtips disappeared. Harry opened his eyes. The founders were staring at him with strange mix of emotions in their eyes. Pity, thankfully, was not among them. Harry hated pity. But then again, having been in his mind for a few minutes, the founders probably knew that.  
  
Rather, Harry saw a mix of different emotions ranging from shock to respect- he could not read them all.  
  
"Oh, you poor boy," Ravenclaw sighed, sitting back down in her seat. "You've been through a lot, haven't you. I must say, I couldn't have wished for a better heir."  
  
Gryffindor nodded, clapping Harry on the back, albeit gently. Harry tried not to feel too pleased.  
  
"Merlin would have been proud as well." Slytherin commented.  
  
Harry blinked.  
  
"Merlin? You- you knew Merlin?"  
  
The founders laughed.  
  
"Of course we did, silly," Hufflepuff said affectionately, "he lived a thousand years ago, in our time."  
  
Harry frowned. "I remember Dumbledore telling me that Merlin had founded the Order of the Phoenix ten thousand years ago. Did Merlin live that long?"  
  
Slytherin chuckled.  
  
"Ah, my dear boy, have you never heard of Merlin's ability to live backwards in time?"  
  
Harry shook his head dumbly.  
  
"Well, this way, Merlin was practically immortal. He developed this unusual ability so far that he could eventually jump in time. After a rather draining battle with a dragon, Merlin had to flee, and so he jumped backwards. Unfortunately, his magic was still too weak and he couldn't control his destination. So, he accidentally jumped nine thousand years back in time, and after that was so exhausted that he had to stay there for a while to recover. That is when he founded the Order of the Phoenix."  
  
Harry was deeply impressed. He let his gaze wander through the room for a while, eventually stopping at the table with the strange books on it.  
  
"Um, if you don't mind, what are those books for?"  
  
Ravenclaw smiled.  
  
"Those?" She pointed to the books as well. "Let me show you."  
  
Harry followed Ravenclaw's founder to the big table. They stopped in front of an especially heavy volume labelled 'Defence'.  
  
"This, Harry," Rowena said, opening the book somewhere in the middle, "Is a catalogue. It contains all the books ever written, sorted by themes. For example, in this catalogue you will find every book written on defence against the dark arts. The catalogue updates itself as soon as a new book comes out in the wizarding world, and the book is magically added to the shelves of this room."  
  
Harry frowned.  
  
"So, in this room, there are all the books ever written on Defence, Potions, Transfigurations and so on? Well, I can see that there are many books in here, more than even the Hogwarts library has, but- there have to be more books than that in existence, right? And anyway- how are you ever going to find anything with this amount of books?"  
  
"Right you are, Harry," Gryffindor who had stepped up behind Harry and Ravenclaw, said. "Even though you can see millions of books in this room, they are only a small part of what is really here. The shelves have an infinite expanding charm on them, as well as a shrinking spell. As a result, the shelves always stay the same size to our eyes, no matter how many books there are."  
  
Harry nodded, impressed again.  
  
"As for finding the books you want to read," Ravenclaw picked up again, "This is what this catalogue is for. You just put your right hand on to its cover and then give the book instructions as to what you want to read. The catalogue will immediately list all the 'fitting' books in alphabetical order. If you tap a book's title with your wand once, a short description will be shown below it. If you tap the title twice, the book will immediately come to you. If you tap the title three times, the book will be returned to its place. Simple, isn't it?"  
  
Harry was staring at her with his mouth hanging open in amazement. Slytherin smirked.  
  
"Why don't you try it out, Harry?"  
  
Hesitating slightly, Harry slowly put his hand on the cover. The book trembled slightly, as if awaiting his orders.  
  
"Show me- show me the book Lily Potter read last."  
  
Immediately, the book flew open somewhere three quarters through. A single title appeared on the page.  
  
"'How to protect your loved ones', by Nunquiam Savadi." Harry's breath hitched in his throat as he realized what he would probably find in the book. Hands shaking slightly, he pulled out his wand and tapped the title twice.  
  
Immediately, he heard a strange whistling sound, and then the book landed on the table next to him with a dull thud. Harry opened it and scanned the table of contents. And indeed, there it was.  
  
"Page 354, the 'Praesidium Sensus'." Next to it, someone had written in clear, flowing handwriting: 'Usable, if there is no way out'. Harry closed the book with shaking hands as the implications hit him.  
  
His mother had been there, had researched ancient protection spells and charms at that very table. This was where she had discovered the charm that had, together with Harry's own powers and Gryffindor's attempts at immortality, saved his life almost fourteen years before. Harry barely felt gentle fingers remove the book from is grasp and a pair of hands guide him back to his seat.  
  
"Are you alright, Harry?" Helga's concerned voice pulled him back to reality. Harry nodded, still feeling a little dazed.  
  
"Yeah, sure," he said, smiling weakly. "I just- I mean, when I asked for that book, I never expected-"  
  
The founders nodded in understanding.  
  
"Harry, we never got to tell you who else was here over the past millennium," Godric said. Harry nodded eagerly, grateful for the change in topic. He still wanted to know.  
  
"Well, you probably won't know most of them, but we will tell you anyway." Salazar started. "Let's see. Before Dumbledore, there weren't too many people. There was, of course, a few centuries ago, a small boy called Nicholas Flamel. He studied many books of this library in hopes of creating a legendary substance called the 'Philosopher's Stone'. As you know, he eventually succeeded. Nicholas came here for many centuries, until about two years ago."  
  
Harry felt curious. "What happened? Did he- kill someone?"  
  
The founders chuckled. "Oh no, my dear boy," Godric exclaimed, "You'll have to look hard to ever find another man as peaceful as Nicholas Flamel! No, no, Nicholas was a brilliant alchemist, but beyond that, he was not too interested in anything, least of all the human world's wars. Nicholas never killed anyone in his admittedly long lifetime."  
  
Harry frowned, puzzled. "So why doesn't he come here anymore?"  
  
Godric smiled. "Well, Harry, he died. The stone was destroyed, and eventually, there was no elixir of life left. Nicholas told us that he was actually quite relieved. On his own, he couldn't have made the decision of destroying the stone, thus ending his life. But he was starting to feel out of place in this ever-changing world, and so he was quite happy to die."  
  
Harry stared at his house's founder incredulously. Rowena chuckled.  
  
"For someone as young as yourself, it must seem terrible to wish for death. But Nicholas and Perenelle outlived their friends, their family, everyone- they really didn't mind ending it all."  
  
Harry nodded a little doubtfully.  
  
"So, who else came here?"  
  
"Well..... there was one boy, around five hundred years ago, called William James of Mindleson. He was banned from here because he killed someone. Later, we were told that he now resides in Hogwarts castle as the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron."  
  
"Oh." Harry nodded. He glanced quickly at the clock above the chimney and gasped.  
  
"It's already seven! Dinner will have started by now- Sirius and Minerva and Remus are probably worried out of their minds- I've been gone for six hours! I'm sorry, I really need to go now!"  
  
The founders nodded and got up just as Harry did.  
  
"You will visit us again, right, Harry?" Ravenclaw asked.  
  
He smiled at her. "Of course I will. I can't say exactly when, but tomorrow should be fine?"  
  
The four of them nodded. They exchanged their goodbyes, and then Harry was being led back through the confusing corridors by the golden glow, which was apparently a faerie called Keereelalia. Somehow, this time, the way seemed to be much shorter, confirming Harry's suspicions that Keereelalia had fooled him before.  
  
The thought brought a small smile to Harry's face as they finally arrived in front of the big iron gates. Harry turned to face the glow and smiled.  
  
"Well, thanks for leading me, Keereelalia. I appreciate it. Even though I must say that the way seemed to take a suspiciously long time at first."  
  
Suddenly, the glow diminished and Harry could quite clearly make out what looked like a miniature human with wings in it. The faerie was smiling.  
  
"It was my pleasure, Harry. Oh, and you may want to watch out for the cloud above your head!"  
  
Harry looked up and- promptly got drenched in water. Still sputtering in outrage, he never got a chance at revenge as he watched a giggling Keereelalia speeding away.  
  
Shaking his head, Harry opened the gate and left the secret garden. This time, he found the gap in the hedge quickly. He stepped through and began to hurry towards Hogwarts castle. But the day's events had left him rather drained, and Harry took almost twenty minutes until he had reached the castle. It had to be around half past seven.  
  
By the time he opened the front doors, Harry was feeling tired and was yawning almost non-stop. He remembered his godmother's order not to go anywhere alone and searched his mind for the telepathic bond he shared with the Order Council members. He concentrated on contacting only Snape, Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus and Minerva, as they were the only ones who knew about the demon.  
  
He got five relieved responses and felt a little guilty for worrying them all. Harry waited for someone to come and collect him. He didn't have to wait long.  
  
After only about two minutes, footsteps approached and Professor Snape rounded the corner. He smiled slightly at Harry and beckoned the student to follow him into the Great Hall.  
  
To Harry's immense relief, most of the Order members were already gone by the time he and Snape arrived there. The High Table, however, was still occupied by the whole Order Council. Harry quickly slid down in the seat between Snape and Sirius.  
  
"Harry!" the latter exclaimed. "You've been gone for more than six hours! We were worried about you! Where were you?"  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
"I'm really sorry for worrying you lot, but I went out into the gardens and fell asleep in the sun."  
  
It was no less than the truth. The five adults seemed to accept his excuse and nodded. Minerva, especially, smiled at him.  
  
"It shows," she said.  
  
"What?" Harry was confused.  
  
"That you've been in the sun for a few hours. You're quite tanned."  
  
"I am?" Harry hadn't really had the chance to look into a mirror for a few hours. Dumbledore, Snape, his godparents and Remus nodded, all of them smiling at Harry in a strange way, as if they knew something he didn't. Harry decided that he didn't like the smiles and occupied himself with the food. After a few hours outside, he felt ravenous.  
  
"By the way, Sirius?"  
  
His godfather looked up from his plate. "Yeah, Harry?"  
  
"When exactly will the Order meeting begin?"  
  
"Eight o'clock. So, you still have..... fifteen minutes."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Harry hurried with his food and finished five minutes later, at the same time as everyone else.  
  
"One minute, Harry." Harry turned to see the headmaster looking at him. He nodded and remained in his seat. The hall emptied slowly, until only Dumbledore and Harry remained. Harry felt a little nervous and asked himself if he had done anything wrong. The headmaster leaned back in his chair and watched Harry for a while, effectively making him squirm.  
  
Finally, Dumbledore took mercy on Harry.  
  
"Harry," he broke the tense silence, regarding Harry over his half-moon spectacles. "Am I correct in assuming that you did not spend all of your time outside sleeping?"  
  
Harry opened his mouth, about to fervently deny that statement, when he suddenly remembered that Dumbledore had been in the Founders' Realm as well as a student and young man. Surely it could not hurt to tell the headmaster?  
  
Dumbledore, meanwhile, simply nodded to himself.  
  
"Ill take that as a 'yes'," he smiled, eyes twinkling overtime.  
  
Harry smiled as well, slightly hesitantly.  
  
"Sir, I- I discovered the Realm of the Founders four days ago. I passed the test just before I had to leave for my first Quidditch practice with the English team."  
  
Dumbledore's smile broadened.  
  
"Ah, yes," he mused, "Yes, yes, yes. You were in a hurry, weren't you? – I suspected you might have found the Realm- and today only confirmed my suspicions. So, my boy, have you met the Hogwarts Four?"  
  
Harry nodded, a smile on his face.  
  
"I met them just a few hours ago. It was- surprising."  
  
The aged headmaster chuckled merrily. "I have no doubt that it was, my boy. Give my best to the Four the next time you go there, will you?"  
  
Harry smiled and nodded. Of course he would.  
  
Dumbledore suddenly pulled a strange looking watch out of his pocket. It didn't have numbers on it, but planets. Harry felt confused by merely looking at it, but it seemed to tell Dumbledore something.  
  
"Oh my, look at the time! If we don't hurry, we will be late. The other members will already be waiting for us, Harry."  
  
Harry got up and followed his mentor out of the Great Hall.  
  
~*~  
  
When they arrived, the other Order Council members were already there. There were the same people as last time (which means, Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, Vector, Snape, Lupin and Dumbledore, and Sirius Black, Hagrid, Mad-Eye-Moody, Arabella Figg (who had apparently been released from St. Mungus, even though she still looked a little pale), Mundungus Fletcher, Arthur Weasley and his two oldest sons, Bill and Charlie) plus Madam Hooch and a pink-haired woman Harry didn't know.  
  
Harry suddenly realized that Madam Hooch hadn't been at the Order meeting he had witnessed before. Why wasn't she part of the Order when the rest of the staff was? Harry quickly took his seat between Sirius and Minerva, and everyone quieted down, waiting for Dumbledore to open the meeting.  
  
The headmaster smiled at everyone. and cleared his throat.  
  
"Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the next meeting of the Order of the Phoenix Council. There are a few issues that need to be addressed, and later Xiomara here" – he pointed at Madam Hooch – "will join our ranks. First off, I'd like to thank young Harry again for saving all our lives in the battle for Azkaban."  
  
Dumbledore paused for a moment, allowing everyone to cheer and clap for an extremely embarrassed Boy-who-Lived.  
  
"Secondly, even though the attack on Azkaban didn't quite go as planned and Voldemort now unfortunately has control over both the dementors and the prisoners of Azkaban, and even though we sadly lost many members at the wands of Voldemort's Deatheaters and the claws of the Aychryds, the aftermath of the battle was a general success for us. Thanks to Mr. Potter's heroic act, and the article which appeared in the newspaper the morning after, the Order has had hundreds of recruits in the past five days. We now count 827 members, all of whom have been tested by Fawkes, and more people are joining every day."  
  
There was a general whispering in the room, everyone had broad smiles on their faces.  
  
"The next issue that needs to be addressed, is my being made temporary minister of magic. I, of course, as the head of the Order and headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, will not keep the job. I have enough on my hands. Therefore, I have decided to schedule the elections on the twentieth of September. Now, the Order Council needs to decide which one of us will pose as a candidate."  
  
There was a short silence, then Arabella Figg raised her hand. Dumbledore nodded to her.  
  
"I propose Arthur Weasley. We all know that there is no one better and that he will handle the responsibilities of the Minister of Magic better than Fudge ever has. Also, he is fiercely loyal to the light side, and his family is pureblood, which means that not even people like Lucius Malfoy could discriminate him on that basis."  
  
Dumbledore nodded, seemingly not surprised, but rather pleased. Harry suspected that he had wanted Mr. Weasley to be the candidate all along.  
  
"Does anyone know a candidate better-suited for the job than Arthur?"  
  
The room remained silent. Dumbledore's smile widened.  
  
"Then, it's settled. Arthur, do you think you're up to it?"  
  
Arthur Weasley nodded, looking a little overwhelmed. Harry smiled at him. There was really no one who deserved the job more than Mr. Weasley, in Harry's opinion.  
  
"Right." Dumbledore continued. "Now that that's settled, Xiomara, will you come forward?"  
  
The flying instructor nodded and stepped forward. The rest of the members, Harry included, formed a circle around her. Harry suddenly realized that he had no idea what he was supposed to do and looked around in panic, but no one was paying attention to him. Then, as if in a trance, they all raised their wands. Harry, only just managing to hold back a gasp of amazement, found himself doing the same. Then, the Order members started to mutter the incantation, and to his ultimate surprise, Harry knew the words, even though he could not understand what they meant, or even discern what kind of language they were.  
  
Suddenly, beams of light shot out of the wands of the people present and connected with Madam Hooch. She, unlike Harry, was not fighting them, confirming Harry's suspicion that she had been in the Order during Voldemort's last reign of terror as well.  
  
Harry watched in fascination as the golden beams of light split up and the threads connected with each other, until all the Order members were part of a gigantic, golden web, with Madam Hooch in the centre. The most amazing sensation swept through Harry, as though he was suddenly part of one, big force, not Harry Potter anymore, and he felt more powerful and safer than ever before.  
  
Then, Fawkes flew in through the window and settled down in front of Hooch. She met his gaze calmly. Dumbledore stepped forward.  
  
"Rolanda Xiomara Hooch, do you want to join the Order of the Phoenix?"  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"Do you promise to be faithful to the Order and never to join the dark side?"  
  
"Yes, I promise."  
  
"Would you give your life in order to protect your fellow Order members if they were in mortal peril?"  
  
"Yes, I would."  
  
Fawkes trilled a high note, then he spread his wings and took off again, flying through the window.  
  
"Rolanda Xiomara Hooch, you have fulfilled the laws of the Order of the Phoenix and are now officially a member. In order to become a part of the Order Council, you have to completely trust every Council member. In order for you to trust us and for us to trust you, we will have to view each other's best and worst memories."  
  
Unlike Harry, Xiomara did not panic. Harry only felt calm acceptance and slight resignation from her. Harry shook his head in amazement. He waited for a few moments, knowing what was to come and inwardly bracing himself. Then, the thread connected to Dumbledore glowed red. For the second time in two weeks, Harry found himself watching the Order members' best and worst memories.  
  
(A/N: If you want to know what they are, re-read chapter 5. It would go too far writing about all of them again.)  
  
Soon, it was his turn, and Harry swallowed heavily against the icy feeling of dread in his stomach and throat. He tried to close his eyes, but found himself unable to. Sighing slightly, Harry resigned himself to watching himself find out that he was a wizard and win the Quidditch Cup, then his parents and Cedric get killed again. Harry was relieved that none of the scenes of the Dursleys had been replayed.  
  
Finally, the thread connecting him to Madam Hooch glowed red. Apparently, Madam Hooch's happiest memory was being made flying instructor at Hogwarts and joking around with some of her friends, all of whom Harry did not recognise, as well as simply flying. Harry had to smile at that, he knew the feeling.  
  
Then, he watched as an about fifteen-year-old Hooch got the news that her parents had been murdered by Grindelwald, and as a student transfigured her halfway into a hawk in Transfigurations class. The teacher was unable to undo the change completely, and Madam Hooch had to keep the yellow eyes.  
  
Then it was over. The beams of light vanished, and the strange feeling of being part of one, big force disappeared. Harry was confused when Madam Hooch did not collapse in the end of her initiation. Why had he collapsed when she had not? Was he weak? Or was it because of his memories? Harry felt extremely puzzled and was just about to ask his godmother, who was standing next to him, about it, when he spotted something, or rather someone.  
  
There, in the corner beside the slightly ajar door, sat a rat. A big, fat rat with a silver paw.  
  
Harry gasped loudly and pointed at the rat. "YOU!" he yelled. The rat squeaked in a startled way and was out of the door before Harry could do anything. "You're not getting away again!" Harry yelled. He concentrated deeply, and with a 'pop', had transformed into a wolf.  
  
His animal senses took over, and Harry-wolf followed the scent of the rat as quickly as he could. Down the staircase, into the corridor. Where to now? Left! The prey had run to the left. Harry-wolf let out a low growl and began to sprint down the hallway. The wolf was fast, he soon discovered. Fast, with very accurate senses. But the rat had quite the advantage.  
  
Sometimes, Harry-wolf spotted a tail sweep around a corner, which always made him speed up. He was dimly aware of someone following him. A dog, a cat and a hawk. Sirius, Minerva and Hooch, he realized.  
  
Shaking his furry head, Harry-wolf concentrated on the task at hand. They were entering the entrance hall. The door burst open magically as the rat neared it, and Harry realized just how frightened it had to be for wandless magic to work. Harry-wolf growled again and sped up even more.  
  
They were now running across the Hogwarts ground, and slowly, Harry was gaining ground. Another fifty feet....... thirty...... twenty....... Harry-wolf could hear the rat's terrified squeaking and smell its fear....... another ten feet....... five.......  
  
There was a crack in the ground in front of them, nearly five feet broad, and with a jolt, Harry-wolf realized that the chase had taken them to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The rat squeaked loudly and jumped. The distance seemed to be too far for a rat but it landed safely on the other side. Harry-wolf growled again and prepared to jump as well.  
  
He pressed his hind legs to the ground firmly and gave himself a mighty push. He sailed through the air effortlessly..... until, suddenly, a curse hit him. Harry-wolf yelped as he was somehow transferred into his human body.  
  
Arms flailing wildly, Harry only just managed to grab on to the edge of the crack. Hanging there only by his fingertips, Harry slowly looked down. And blanched. He had no idea how deep this crack was, but he could definitely not see the ground.  
  
Even more slowly, Harry looked up again. And found himself nose-to-wand with Peter Pettigrew.  
  
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A/N: HEHEHEHEHE!!!!!!! Cliffhanger!!! Literally!!!! MWHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
You know, I was sorely tempted to call this chapter "The meanest cliffhanger ever written", but decided against it.....  
  
Thanks to all the people who reviewed the last chapter!!! You guys are the best!!!!!  
  
See ya,  
  
Felinity ^_^ 


	10. Chapter Ten: The Third Encounter

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you recognise! They all belong to JK Rowling! I do own Rhianna Lupin, the plot and the ENQT!  
  
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Chapter 10  
  
The Third Encounter  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
Even more slowly, Harry looked up. And found himself nose-to-wand with Peter Pettigrew.  
  
The rat-faced man was smiling maliciously and breathing hard.  
  
"So, Potter," he panted, "We meet again. And this time, you are completely at my mercy....."  
  
Harry shuddered as he held on with all his might. Sirius, Minerva and Hooch had been right behind them. Surely they would help him soon? Pettigrew seemed to sense Harry's thoughts, because he suddenly looked up sharply and cast a spell with his silver hand that Harry didn't recognise.  
  
Immediately, a colourful barrier formed on the other side of the crack, repelling and blocking out anyone who came within a foot of it. Harry could hear furious snarling sounds, then curses being thrown, but nothing seemed to be able to break the barrier.  
  
Pettigrew turned his attention back to Harry. He was frowning.  
  
"Pity I can't kill you right now, while you are so vulnerable," he muttered. "But if I did that, your body would fall down the crack..... don't know if floating charms would be strong enough to catch it..... never my forte at school..... and I need to bring it to my master, he will honour me for it beyond my wildest dreams..... I will be his right-hand man, he will make the other Deatheaters worship me, he will fulfil my every dream for the present I am about to give him..... you, Harry....."  
  
A strange light shone in Pettigrew's eyes, and with a shudder, Harry realized that the man was insane.  
  
"Yes....." Pettigrew hissed, "I will give Master what he desires most..... your life, Harry Potter..... the boy-who lived!" He spat the words, then laughed coldly.  
  
Harry shivered. The man was really, truly, insane. Suddenly, Pettigrew stopped laughing, the light in his eyes died down, and he regarded Harry with almost calculating eyes.  
  
"Do you even know why I hate you so much, Potter? Do you even understand?"  
  
Harry was panting by now, his arms shaking with the effort of holding on to the crack's edge, his fingers starting to slip. Pettigrew frowned and levitated Harry onto the ground next to him with a flick of silver hand. Harry kept very still, not wanting to anger the mentally unstable man who was still pointing his wand at Harry.  
  
"Well, Potter? Do you know?"  
  
Harry shook his head angrily.  
  
"No, I don't," he said, "My parents and Sirius and Remus were your friends, your very best friends, and you betrayed them!"  
  
Pettigrew drew a sharp breath and pressed his wand to Harry's throat.  
  
"Never," he growled, "speak of things you don't understand in that tone, Potter!"  
  
"Oh yeah?" Harry bit back. "I don't understand? Well, why don't you try me, then?"  
  
Neither of the two were aware of the crowd that had gathered in front of the barrier. The whole Order Council was there, still trying desperately to break the unnatural barrier, but also listening to their conversation with interest.  
  
"Very well." Pettigrew agreed, his wand never leaving Harry's throat.  
  
"It all started when we first came to Hogwarts. I met this girl on the train, a red-haired, green-eyed girl, pretty, even though she was still a child at the time. Yes, Potter, she was Lily Evans, your mother."  
  
Pettigrew sounded almost wistful as he said that.  
  
"We talked for a bit. I immediately had a crush on her, but she didn't seem to like me much. She preferred the company of three other first years by the names of Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and James Potter."  
  
Again, he spat out the name.  
  
"I tried to get Lily's attention so hard over the years. I convinced the sorting head not to put me in Slytherin, I made friends with Potter and his little gang, I played pranks on my rightful house..... I tried to get good marks, even allowed myself to be humiliated a few times, just to be in the spotlight, just to catch Lily's attention....."  
  
He took a deep breath, pressing his wand into Harry's throat. Harry choked slightly, and Pettigrew relented a little.  
  
"Then, in our sixth year," he said in a rough voice, "There was a ball. A Yule ball. I was so glad. Finally, there was something to catch my crush's attention. I asked Lily to the ball, and she declined. She was already going with Potter. Not two weeks later, the two of them were a couple."  
  
Harry began to feel a little pity for the man in front of him.  
  
"From then on, nothing could catch Lily's attention but James. Whenever I talked to her, she was very cold. I became bitter and started to resent my friends. Black and Lupin as well, for Lily liked them."  
  
The rat-faced man laughed scornfully.  
  
"Perfect Potter, Black and Lupin. Always thought they were better than the rest of us. Always getting what they wanted without really trying hard. Oh no, we normal mortals never stood a chance."  
  
Pettigrew took a shuddering breath and raked his free hand through his thinning hair. Harry dared not move, for the wand was still pressed firmly into his throat.  
  
"After school," Pettigrew continued roughly, a definite edge to his voice, "We all joined the Order of the Phoenix."  
  
Catching Harry's disbelieving and doubtful gaze, Pettigrew smiled cynically.  
  
"Oh yes, Potter. I passed the Phoenix Initiation Ritual. While I was bitter, I was still entirely devoted to the so-called light side." Pettigrew smiled almost amusedly.  
  
"What a fool I was! But of course, Master soon taught me that there is no light or dark..... there is simply power and those too weak to seek it..... Dumbledore and his little group were idealists, a useless bunch, the lot of them..... but I am getting side-tracked. Only about a month after entering the Order, the Dark Lord approached me. Said that out of the whole Order, I had seemed to be the most..... talented..... and best-suited man for his services....."  
  
Pettigrew smiled again, sarcastically.  
  
"Imagine that. Eighteen years on the side of light, and nobody had ever told me that I was talented at anything before..... Needless to say, I didn't trust my lord at first. I even attacked him....."  
  
Pettigrew looked almost ashamed.  
  
"But my lord, of course, was not harmed. He used the Imperius Curse on me to make me sit down and listen to him — and by the end of the day, I knew how wrong I had been..... how wrong to ever think that the 'light side' could ever win....."  
  
The strange light was again shining in Pettigrew's eyes. Harry gulped slightly and tried to back away. Unfortunately, Pettigrew noticed, and with a hiss, he drew out a small dagger and pressed it to Harry's throat.  
  
"Don't move, Potter," he growled, "Don't move, or you'll find yourself without that pretty little head of yours..... we wouldn't want that, now would we?"  
  
Harry gulped again as the knife sliced through his skin and warm blood started to flow down his neck. He could hear some of the Order Council members screaming, and a renewed mass of curses hitting the barrier.  
  
"So....." Pettigrew whispered, dragging his finger through Harry's blood and staring at it in morbid fascination, "I decided to accept the offer he had made me. I would spy for him, passing what information I could gather on the Order..... and in return, he said that I would someday get what I always wanted..... your mother....."  
  
Pettigrew eyed Harry again with his calculating gaze.  
  
"I presume people have told you how much you look like your father? Well, that's not entirely true. There's a lot of Lily in you..... your eyes, your nose, even your smile..... anyway..... more than a year after I had joined his service, master entrusted me with a wonderful task..... I was to become your secret keeper, I just had to convince that idiot Black and Potter..... to my great delight, it didn't take much convincing. It was all Black's idea, I would be the secret keeper, and he the target....."  
  
Pettigrew laughed out loud, though there was no warmth and amusement in that laugh, just cruelty and coldness. Harry shivered involuntarily.  
  
"Of course....." Pettigrew continued quietly, his hand shaking ever so slightly. ".....things didn't quite work out as I wanted them to..... Master — betrayed me, by killing the woman I loved, and then he got himself killed by YOU!"  
  
Pettigrew pressed harder, and Harry started to choke again. Blood gushed out of the cut on his throat, and Harry knew that if Pettigrew cut just a little deeper, he would be dead in an instant.  
  
"You know what happened next," Pettigrew continued smoothly. "I framed Black..... probably the first time I ever outsmarted him..... it must irk him mercilessly."  
  
Pettigrew smiled insanely, and Harry could hear muffled shouts of anger and curses through the barrier.  
  
"So now, Potter..... you know why I did what I did..... you know why I betrayed...... those...... who have admittedly shown me kindness..... and you know why I hate you so much."  
  
His voice was just a little bitter.  
  
"Lily should have been my wife. You should have been my son. You are the living reminder of my failure to get the one thing I wanted the most..... the living reminder of everything that has gone wrong in my life. And therefore, Potter you will pay now....."  
  
Pettigrew put the knife down and picked up his wand instead, shooting a leg- locker curse at Harry and binding his hands with a flick of his wand.  
  
"I will kill you this way..... it gives the caster so much more satisfaction..... so much more fun to kill magically....."  
  
"You would know," panted Harry as he squirmed desperately on the ground.  
  
Pettigrew hit him across the face.  
  
Time seemed to slow down for Harry as he watched Pettigrew raise his wand and prepare to speak those fatal two words. Dimly, he heard the Council members' panicked shouts and the voice that was pronouncing the most unforgivable of curses..... Avada Kedavra.  
  
Harry closed his eyes as the green light rushed towards him. He held his breath as seconds stretched to resemble eternity..... and then, the curse hit. It was unlike anything Harry could ever remember experiencing before. He felt hot and cold at the same time, like he was burning and someone was dumping him in freezing water.....  
  
Harry breathed heavily as he felt the curse descend on his tired brain and heart. Darkness threatened to engulf Harry, everything faded away, he couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't hear, could only feel and fight.....  
  
And fight, Harry did. With all of his willpower and inner strength, he lashed out at the curse, driving the darkness away, struggling for his life. For an endless second, Harry thought that it wouldn't work..... and then, he could suddenly breathe again, the darkness was gone, noises returned, Harry could hear Pettigrew screaming again.  
  
Why was Pettigrew screaming? Harry sat bolt upright immediately, just in time to see a flash of green light, which seemed to be surrounded by small, golden lightning bolts, speeding away from him and hitting Pettigrew in the chest. The rat Animagus let out a choked gasp and sank to the floor.  
  
Harry stared in disbelief at the still figure. What had just happened? Why wasn't he (Harry) dead? Why had the curse rebounded?  
  
A crackling sound on his right drew Harry's attention. It seemed that the Order members had finally succeeded in breaking the barrier down.  
  
A big, black dog jumped over the crack with ease and skidded to a halt next to Harry. One moment later, the dog had transformed into Harry's godfather.  
  
"Harry!" Harry found himself enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. "God, kid, are you alright? What about your throat? Don't you ever do that again!"  
  
A few minutes and an endless series of hugs later, Harry could finally breathe again. It seemed that almost every council member had wanted to hug him and make sure that he was alright.  
  
Harry looked up when somebody sighed exasperatedly. Madam Pomfrey had arrived. The school matron looked stern and disapproving at first, but her gaze softened when she took in the cut on Harry's throat (which was still bleeding slightly).  
  
"Alright, you," she sighed, "Lay down for a minute. I have to fix that cut."  
  
Harry sighed and allowed himself to fall back onto the ground. Madam Pomfrey examined the wound gently for a while, then she drew out her wand.  
  
"I'm going to have to clean that cut," she explained to the anxious on- lookers, "Seems that Pettigrew wasn't cleaning his knife properly. If I don't clean it, the wound will be infected. Hold still, Harry, this will to burn a little."  
  
She swished her wand in a complicated pattern and muttered an incantation. Harry personally thought that Madam Pomfrey had just produced the understatement of the year. It didn't burn a little, it definitely burned a lot!  
  
Harry grimaced, but he had survived much worse. After a few minutes, the burn faded away, and Madam Pomfrey seemed to be satisfied. She touched her wand to the cut, and a second later, it was gone. Not even a scar remained.  
  
Harry smiled and tried to sit up, but his godmother pushed him back down.  
  
"Oh no, you don't," she said sternly. "You, my dear godson, were just hit with the killing curse. We have to make sure that there are no after- effects."  
  
Harry frowned and protested.  
  
"But Minerva, Madam Pomfrey, I'm fine! Honestly! I don't even feel all that tired-"  
  
But he might as well have talked to a wall, because Madam Pomfrey began to wave her wand above his body again, muttering a string of spells and charms. Harry frowned to himself and decided to let it go.  
  
"Well," she diagnosed, "It seems to me, young man, that you are indeed what could be considered fine. A few bruises and ripped muscle strings here and there, but nothing serious, and definitely nothing that wouldn't be cured by a good night's sleep. However, as far as I can tell, battling that curse has tired you out greatly. You should be sleeping right now."  
  
Harry frowned in annoyance and tried to sit up again. This time, he was stopped by his godfather.  
  
"Poppy is right, Harry," Sirius said uncharacteristically sternly, "Rest for now. Don't worry, everything will be taken care of."  
  
"But-"  
  
Snape stepped up behind Sirius and handed him a bottle of shimmering, red potion. Sirius uncorked the vial and put a hand behind Harry's head. Harry scowled.  
  
"Sirius! I-"  
  
His godfather used that very moment to quickly dump the bottle's content into Harry's mouth. Harry choked slightly and swallowed reflexively..... and then the world around him faded into nice, fuzzy, warm darkness.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry didn't open his eyes at first when he woke up. He felt too comfortable. He hadn't had any dreams, the bed beneath him was soft, the covers were warm, he felt relaxed, he could hear a gentle breeze rustling the leaves above his head.....  
  
Harry smiled contently. There was a very slight stinging pain in his throat. Harry wondered where it came from. Oh, right! Pettigrew had cut his throat. Well, then, there was nothing to worry about and he could go back to- PETTIGREW HAD CUT HIS THROAT???  
  
Harry gasped as the memories flooded back to him and sat bolt upright. He looked around the room wildly. Where was he? It looked like- a clearing? Somebody slipped his glasses on to his face. The smiling face of Sirius Black swam into focus.  
  
"Good morning, Harry," he remarked pleasantly, "I trust you slept well? You seemed- reluctant last night."  
  
Harry scowled as he remembered the reason why he had been asleep.  
  
"That wasn't very nice, you know," Harry complained, "You could at least have asked me if I wanted to sleep-"  
  
"Would you have said 'yes'?"  
  
"Well- no, but-"  
  
"See? It was the only way. And you needed to sleep, no matter what you think."  
  
Harry frowned again. He wasn't about to admit to Sirius that he really did feel better now.  
  
"Still," he muttered, not caring in the least that he sounded like a petulant child. Sirius just smiled and ruffled Harry's hair affectionately.  
  
"Do you want something to eat, Harry? After yesterday's events, you must be hungry." As if answering his question, Harry's stomach growled loudly. Harry blushed, but Sirius merely grinned.  
  
"Just a sec, Harry. I'll be just outside, calling a house elf. You shall stay put, Madam Pomfrey wants to check on you before you are allowed to get up."  
  
Harry sighed exasperatedly and slumped back into his pillows. He watched with a slight smile as a bird from the forest stuck its head through the wall and chirped at Harry questioningly.  
  
"I'm fine," Harry told the little bird, "Don't worry." The bird cocked its head to the side, then spread its wings and fluttered away. Moments later, Sirius entered with a tray of breakfast.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey will be here in fifteen minutes," he told Harry. "Try to eat as much of this food as you can. You're still underweight." Harry rolled his eyes at Sirius' stern gaze and accepted the tray of food. As he was very hungry, he had absolutely no problem in cleaning the whole try off. It was hard to say who was more amazed, Sirius or Harry.  
  
"Good morning, Mr. Potter," a voice said from the portrait hole. Harry whirled around and came face-to-face with Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey, Remus and his godmother. The school matron stepped over to the bed and eyed Harry critically. Grabbing his chin gently, she lit her wand and looked into Harry's eyes. Harry had no idea what she was looking for and was about to tell her that his eyes had not popped out of their sockets over night, when she released him, seemingly satisfied. Harry tried to blink away the red and green lights that were now dancing in his vision.  
  
Madam Pomfrey ignored his complaints and briskly told him to lie down again. Grumbling to himself, Harry complied. She ran her wand down Harry's body again, apparently scanning him somehow. A small parchment appeared above Harry's head. He tried to see what was written on it but could only make out strange, colourful lines that made absolutely no sense to him. Madam Pomfrey, however, seemed to be happy with what she saw and stepped back, pocketing her wand.  
  
"Very well, Harry," she said, obviously feeling pleased, "I am glad to announce that you are back to perfect health, physically and magically."  
  
Harry blinked.  
  
"Magically? What do you mean?"  
  
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore muttered, "This is part of the sixth year curriculum. You see, Harry, every witch or wizard has some kind of magical level. These levels differ greatly from wizard to wizard, depending on how powerful the witch or wizard in question is. The higher the level- the greater the wizard's ability to do complicated magic. When a wizard is ill, his level falls, because the magic inside him is battling the illness, together with the human body's natural immune system. This is why wizards heal faster than muggles. Only when the wizard is in perfect health his level is at its highest point, which means that the wizard can do magic to his full potential. Do you understand so far, Harry?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"When a wizard's magical levels fall to zero, the wizard will die. This is actually what the Avada Kedavra curse does: It destroys the magic in a magical being, and without their magic, magical beings can't survive."  
  
Harry nodded slowly.  
  
"But then," he asked, "How did I survive?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled down at Harry and sat on the bed beside him.  
  
"Well, my boy, the curse was not strong enough to kill you. Your magical levels are enormously high, they have always been, even though you cannot access most of your magic yet. And while your magical levels are high, Pettigrew is a rather weak wizard. It must have taken him a long time to learn how to cast the Unforgivable Curses, I am surprised he managed at all.....  
  
"And while Voldemort managed to disable your mother's protection by transferring a part of it to himself, so that you are equal, the protection is just as strong as it was when any other witch or wizard tries to harm you. It seems that your magical powers, combined with your immune system and your mother's Praesidium Sensus, were stronger than Pettigrew's killing curse. This is how you survived."  
  
Harry thought about this for a few moments.  
  
"So," he surmised, "Had Voldemort cast that curse, thus rendering my mother's protection useless, I would have- died?"  
  
"Most likely, my boy, most likely."  
  
Harry shuddered.  
  
"But Sir, I don't understand. You said that the Avada Kedavra curse kills by destroying a person's magic. Can't muggles be killed by the curse as well? They don't have any magic, do they?"  
  
Dumbledore's smile broadened and his eyes twinkled gently.  
  
"An excellent question, my boy! – A question few people have the answer to. I, however, was lucky enough to come across a book in- a certain, secret library-"he winked at Harry "in my youth which was written by Merlin himself, concerning this very subject."  
  
Dumbledore hummed a little and looked up at the ceiling, apparently collecting his thoughts. Harry waited with bated breath.  
  
"It seems," Dumbledore continued, a dreamy smile on his face, "That our general term 'muggles', referring to humans without magical abilities, is misleading. According to Merlin, every human, no matter if muggle or wizard, has a certain magical core in himself- or herself, for that matter." The headmaster chuckled a little as Harry gaped at him.  
  
"Yes, quite shocking, isn't it? But true, very true..... yes..... there is not so much difference between muggles and magicians as we might think..... or wish, in Voldemort's case....."  
  
Now Harry was completely confused. If every human being had magic, why were there so few people who were taught how to use it? What was the difference between wizards and witches and muggles? If all of them were able to do magic, it was unfair to only teach some of them and leave the others in the dark! Harry voiced his opinion. The headmaster nodded pensively.  
  
"It is not quite as easy, Harry," he explained seriously. "Muggles do, indeed, possess magic, the same magic witches and wizards possess. But they are unable to use it most of the time. Why? The magic muggles possess is in their very core, like a wizard's. But it is so-called 'wild magic'. It cannot be controlled- with a wand or otherwise. It simply exists, not noticeable to the muggles. They do not know of its existence. They do not believe in its existence. There are rare cases, however, when a muggle is in grave danger or need, where the wild magic activates itself and helps the muggle in an uncontrolled outburst. Have you ever heard of such cases? Where muggles did things that are not really possible in their eyes?"  
  
Harry bit his lip and thought for a while.  
  
"Do you mean like, when someone is in danger and suddenly runs much faster than he usually does? Or, wait, I think I once read a newspaper clipping about a man whose son had been run over by a car, and the man just ran on to the street and lifted the car away. Is this what you mean? But I always thought that this was due to hormones, like adrenaline?"  
  
Dumbledore beamed at Harry.  
  
"Excellent, my boy! This is exactly the sort of thing I was talking about. And yes, you are right about the adrenaline. Only that this hormone isn't the reason for the muggles' abilities to do, in their eyes, impossible things. It is really the trigger of their wild magic. When a muggle is frightened, his body produces adrenaline. When the concentration of adrenaline is high enough, the muggle is able to access his or her magic for a very short time. Those outbursts are rather rare and are largely viewed as miracles."  
  
Dumbledore chuckled.  
  
"And wizards?" Harry wanted to know. "What is it that enables us to do magic all the time? And don't we have adrenaline as well?"  
  
The headmaster smiled softly.  
  
"Wizards are only slightly different, Harry. Yes, we do have adrenaline, it makes our magic stronger in extreme situations, sometimes even enables us to do wandless magic, by allowing us to access a large amount of our magical core in one single moment. But there is another thing, another hormone, which muggles don't have, and which is really the only thing that makes us different from them. It is simply called 'The Channel'. The Channel is always there, our bodies produce it constantly, and it allows us permanent access to our wild magic. It also enables us to (hence the name) channel our magic through wands and other items, such as focus stones, or in rare cases even through our hands."  
  
Harry nodded thoughtfully. It made sense in a way. But-  
  
"Won't the hormone, well, run out sometime? When you use up too much of it?" Dumbledore nodded sombrely.  
  
"Yes, my boy," he admitted softly, "That can indeed happen. Many wizards, especially those who seek immortality, overtax their magical powers. In normal cases, this does not really matter. The wizard will feel tired and sleep for a long time, then his magic will be fully regenerated. If, however, the wizard messes with powerful dark magic- calling up demons, for example- the magic may overpower him and turn against him, causing his magical core to literally burn out. The wizard will die instantly, his body most likely being destroyed in the process."  
  
Harry grimaced in sympathy.  
  
"So," he said, "This is what I did last night? Overtax my magical powers?"  
  
Madam Pomfrey smiled at him and nodded.  
  
"Indeed you did, young man," she said rather cheerfully. "You're lucky to be alive. Well, if you don't mind, I must be off. Lots to do until the students return in a month!"  
  
And with that, she bustled out of the room. Harry, however, had another question.  
  
"About 'The Channel'-"he said thoughtfully, "Why do some people have it, and some don't? It can't be the blood, there are loads of muggleborn witches and wizards, and also squibs. So what is it?"  
  
Dumbledore looked pensive.  
  
"Another excellent question, my dear boy," he said, stroking over his beard thoughtfully. "One that even I, unfortunately, cannot answer. It is not yet known why the Channel exists only in some human beings..... it is widely believed that it does have something to do with blood. After all, there are rarely squibs in pureblood families. The most plausible theory I know of is that even those who are considered muggle born witches and wizards have some magical blood running in their veins..... even though it may have been many generations before that a wizard was born from the same family line. When two squibs have a child, the child is usually a wizard. So the Channel must exist somewhere even in those of us who are unable to do magic..... I daresay, whoever finds an answer to this question, which is one of the oldest in wizarding history, will find himself awarded with an Order of Merlin, First Class."  
  
The headmaster chuckled at his own thought. Then, he pulled his strange watch, the one with many little planets in it instead of numbers, out of his pocket and studied it carefully for a while.  
  
"Dear me, look at the time! I am afraid that I must be off. The ministry department heads are awaiting me for a short meeting. Good day to all of you!"  
  
As soon as the portrait had fallen shut, the other three stepped forward. Sirius and Remus sat down on the bed beside Harry, while Minerva conjured herself up a chair.  
  
"By the way, Sirius," Harry asked suddenly, "Whatever happened to Pettigrew? I- the curse rebounded from me on to him, didn't it? Is he- I mean, he's not- dead?"  
  
Sirius smiled and shook his head.  
  
"Don't worry about the rat, Harry," he said, "He's not dead. Seems that you managed to diminish the curse's power enough that it didn't even kill Pettigrew. He was pretty weak though, still is. He couldn't transform into his Animagus form right now even if he weren't sitting in a ministry cell with tons of protection charms on it."  
  
Harry gaped at his godfather.  
  
"You- Are you serious? Pettigrew's with the ministry?! But- does that mean that you're free? How did you manage to achieve that so quickly?"  
  
Sirius laughed and held up his hand.  
  
"Calm down, Harry," he smiled, "Things are not quite as easy as you might think. Firstly, yes, Pettigrew is currently sitting in one of the ministry's holding cells. That shouldn't really surprise you, Albus is the temporary minister, remember? He made sure that Pettigrew was taken to a capable medi-witch or wizard and then taken to one of the ministry's high security cells, where he will be unable to break out until his trial."  
  
Harry frowned. Why did Pettigrew have to have a trial? Wouldn't it be much easier to just throw the rat into prison and then pardon Sirius? Harry voiced his thoughts. Remus shook his head sombrely.  
  
"No, Harry," he said softly, "While I agree that it would be much easier, it would be illegal. No prisoner can be sentenced for any crime if they didn't have a trial." Sensing Harry's upcoming protest, he held up a hand.  
  
"I know that Sirius didn't get one fourteen years ago, but that doesn't matter here. What was done to Sirius was a crime in itself, and we will not make the same mistakes as Fudge. No, Pettigrew will have a fair trial, during which Sirius will hopefully be freed. This will also clear Sirius's name in the public eye."  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow.  
  
"How so?"  
  
Sirius snorted.  
  
"You of all people, Harry, should know that. The wizarding community believes me to be a murderer, and just because someone tells them that I have been cleared of all charges, they will not stop mistrusting and shunning me. No, I will be freed in a public trial, people will be able to witness its outcome, we'll make sure that the newspapers print some decent articles for a change, and I might have the chance to live a normal life in the future."  
  
Harry nodded. That made sense.  
  
"So," he asked, feeling quite energetic, "When will your trial be?"  
  
"In two days." Harry sucked in a sharp breath. Two days..... such a short time. And yet, when waiting for something, an eternity.  
  
Sirius and Remus left shortly after, saying they had Order business to attend to. Minerva stayed with Harry as protection against the demon which was probably still on the loose somewhere in Hogwarts.  
  
Harry had fun with his godmother, she told him about his mother, which made Harry extremely happy and sad at the same time. Sad, obviously, because he had never had the chance to know her, and happy, because he now had something of his mother to hold close and treasure.  
  
After lunch (Dumbledore was still at the ministry, Sirius and Remus were away on Order business) Minerva left Harry, saying that she still had some work to do as well, and Snape took her place.  
  
They had another lengthy, enjoyable tutoring session, and when it was over, Harry felt that he was slowly getting a grip on the material. To Harry's great surprise, Professor Snape even offered to help him with his homework (two essays, one on the twelve uses of Dragon's Blood, the other on truth potions). He seemed to be very pleased when Harry told him that he had already done them on his own. Then-  
  
"What do you say, Mr. Potter? Another game of chess?"  
  
Harry groaned.  
  
"You're doing this only to torture me! I'm hopeless at chess! You're only going to beat me again!"  
  
Snape grinned.  
  
"Maybe. But if you don't play, you won't learn. Now, I've watched you during Quidditch games, you're really not bad at strategy, you just need to learn to use your skills on the chessboard."  
  
Harry sighed and agreed. They set up the chessboard with practiced ease, Professor Snape, this time, choosing the white pieces.  
  
"I want you to watch what I am doing, Harry," Professor Snape instructed. "By the end of the game, try to tell me what strategy I have used. At the same time, try planning ahead your moves. Watch the way I play and then try to guess which move I will use to counter yours. Take as long as you need, we have another three hours until dinner."  
  
And so they played.  
  
Harry followed Professor Snape's orders and watched his professor's strategy closely. At first, he could not make heads nor tails of it, but after a while, it became slightly clearer. Unlike Ron, Snape had a very aggressive playing style. He protected only his king and other essential pieces, while attacking ruthlessly with the others, always managing to take Harry completely by surprise.  
  
Matches with Ron always lasted for hours because Ron was more the cautious type and took almost no risks, while matches with Snape were seemingly always short. Their match ended after only ten minutes- and Harry had only managed to take out one of Snape's pieces.  
  
Groaning in frustration, Harry sat back. Snape was smirking at him.  
  
"So, Harry," he asked nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair with his hands entwined behind his head, "What can you tell me about my strategy?"  
  
Harry bit his lip thoughtfully as he studied the chessboard.  
  
"You've got a very offensive style," he observed. "You protect only when you have to. Other than that, you strike quickly and unexpectedly, not giving me time to move my pieces to safety. You're using the element of surprise." The Potions Master's smirk widened.  
  
"Very good. And what can you do to counter my moves?" Harry snorted.  
  
"Obviously not try to play defensively. That didn't go over well."  
  
Snape snorted as well.  
  
"No, it didn't. You allowed me to corner you already after your first move. You never even had a chance. The trick with playing chess is not to give in to your partner's rules. If he is cautious, then so are you. The match will drag on for ages, but sometime he will make a mistake out of pure boredom, allowing you to strike and corner him. If your partner's style is aggressive, then you retaliate, trying to get through his rather weak defence while at the same time taking out as many pieces as you can. It's really quite simple."  
  
Harry couldn't help it. He laughed.  
  
"Simple? You just beat the crap out of me, and you expect me to be able to win against you?"  
  
Snape smiled.  
  
"No, Harry, I don't expect you to win just yet. But who knows- maybe you won't lose quite as badly either, hmm?"  
  
Harry snorted as he began to set the chessboard anew.  
  
"Whatever. I pick white this time."  
  
This time, Harry countered Snape's moves with his own aggressive ones, and to his surprise, it worked. By the end of the game, which lasted for about fifteen minutes, Harry had still lost spectacularly, but he had managed to take out five of Snape's chess pieces. Which was more than he had ever managed before.  
  
Harry sighed, feeling at least a little satisfied. Snape was smirking at him again.  
  
"Better," he nodded, "And now we're going to try the slow version." Harry sighed as he helped set up the chessboard once again. Snape picked white and started a very slow chess game. Harry managed fine in the beginning, but after an hour or so, his concentration began to slip. He started to make careless moves, putting his chess pieces in unnecessary danger. Snape, of course, used the situation to his advantage. Nevertheless, the game continued for another hour and a half, in the end Harry had been beaten spectacularly without managing to take out even one of Snape's chess pieces.  
  
"That's it!" he shouted in exasperation as the white king forced his own to surrender. "I give up! Completely! I told you I was hopeless at chess!" The Potions Master smirked as he leaned back in his chair.  
  
"No, you aren't," he insisted, crossing his arms. "You just need to learn to concentrate better. Brewing potions can help you with that, you know?" Harry scowled.  
  
"I can brew potions just fine without being able to concentrate any better, thank you very much." he mumbled.  
  
Professor Snape leaned forward in his armchair, studying Harry intently.  
  
"Oh, can you? What do you say to a little test then, Mr. Potter?"  
  
Harry grimaced, but his pride forced him to accept. So, not five minutes later, he found himself brewing a cheering potion, something he had learnt and botched spectacularly in his fourth year. Harry bit his lip as he carefully measured the beetle eyes. Thirty-four, five, six..... thirty-seven. He added them to the softly simmering cauldron in front of him one at a time.  
  
The potion hissed and changed colour from transparent to yellow. Harry inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Until now, it was looking exactly as it should. Turning the heat down a little with a wave of his wand, remembering that the potion had to simmer for a few minutes, Harry turned his attention to the next ingredient he had to prepare, which happened to be a bezoar. Harry had to grin a little as he remembered his very first potions lesson.  
  
While cheerfully grinding the stone to a fine powder, Harry forgot completely that Snape was still watching him closely. The professor smiled as he leaned against the wall in front of Harry's desk, watching his once most-hated student work.  
  
He had to admit that he was pleased with the boy's progress. In only two tutoring sessions he had managed to give the boy enough knowledge and self- confidence that he was now making what appeared to be an effective cheering potion. At the same time, he noticed that Harry seemed oblivious to his presence, working quickly and quietly. Severus wondered if maybe the boy worked better because there were no distractions.  
  
He watched with a soft smile as Harry tipped his powdered bezoar into the simmering cauldron, making the potion turn a soft blue. There was something relaxing in watching the boy work.  
  
He frowned slightly as Harry's hand hovered uncertainly over the asphodel. 'Not that, boy!' Severus thought. 'It isn't even part of the potion! You'll make it blow up!' As if sensing Severus' thoughts, Harry's hand moved on and descended into a glass of lacewing flies. Severus sighed in relief.  
  
It was strange, Severus mused, how mistaken he had been in his judgement of Harry..... he had allowed past grudges to blind him, thereby transforming Harry Potter into a mirror image of his old rival. But now that he took a closer look..... Harry didn't even seem to look that much like his father. In fact, Severus thought, without his glasses, the boy might actually look more like his mother than his father..... with a tan, of course. Lily, being a typical red head, had always had a rather pale complexion. Something that had irked her to no end, Severus remembered with a soft smile.  
  
It was something that Severus would never admit to others, but he had had a small crush on Lily while they were still at school. Even though she had been in Gryffindor, she had never taken part in her housemates' taunting of the Slytherins and even defended him on some occasions.  
  
She and Severus had become tentative friends in their third year, both of them loved to study and they had met in the library regularly, though in secret. When Lily and James had started going out after the Yule ball in their sixth year, Severus had been bitterly jealous and hated Potter even more. Not Lily, though. He could never bring himself to hate her.  
  
His friendship with Harry's future mother had been another reason for turning back to the light side- one Severus had never told anyone about. He suspected that Albus knew, though. The old coot always seemed to know everything, and Severus didn't like that damn, knowing twinkle in the man's eyes that seemed to brighten every time their conversation turned to Severus's and Lily's (rather secret) friendship. Not that it happened often.  
  
Severus shook himself out of his thoughts as Harry's potion turned red, indicating that it was done. Harry sighed contentedly and stepped back, turning the heat down. He turned to look expectantly at his professor. Snape pushed himself away from the wall and walked to the cauldron, inspecting it closely. He already knew that the potion was perfect but wanted to keep up pretences.  
  
"Congratulations, Mr. Potter," Snape said in his smooth, cool classroom voice. "It seems that for once in your life you have managed to get a potion correct. Five points to Gryffindor."  
  
Harry laughed, feeling pleased with himself.  
  
"Why, thank you Professor. You can't give out house points during the summer, though."  
  
Snape smirked and began to clean up the ingredients Harry hadn't used.  
  
"I know that. I wouldn't have given them to you otherwise."  
  
Harry gaped for a moment before he did something unbelievably childish, yet just as satisfying. He stuck his tongue out. Snape stared at him for a moment in complete shock, then he did something Harry had never seen him do before. His lips quirked up and then he laughed. Sure, Harry had seen the man sneer, or smirk, or grin, or in the last weeks even smile, or chuckle. But never laugh.  
  
Shaking his head at the fact that miracles still happened, Harry began to clean his workspace. Next to him, Snape was muttering a string of Latin words. Immediately, a set of empty potions vials floated over to them. The potion filled itself into the vials, then corks appeared out of nowhere and stoppered the potion. With another flick of Snape's wand, the vials floated away and put themselves on to a back shelf with soft clinks. Harry watched them go in surprise.  
  
"You're going to keep them?"  
  
Snape pocketed his wand nonchalantly and shrugged in a very unSnapeish manner.  
  
"Sure, why not? Why waste a perfectly fine batch of cheering potion when it can be of use later?"  
  
Harry shook his head in disbelief. Snape just smiled as he took a look at his watch.  
  
"We have to get going, Harry. Dinner starts in approximately five minutes."  
  
And so they left Professor Severus Snape's private lab, both marvelling at what they had learnt that day.  
  
~*~  
  
Upon entering the Great Hall Harry was relieved to see that most of the Order members had left. Those who had remained were sitting at one table and waving to Harry. Harry quickly smiled at them and made his way to the high table.  
  
Sirius, Remus and Dumbledore were back, looking slightly exhausted. Harry sat down next to Professor Flitwick and his godmother.  
  
"Where have you been?" Harry asked his godfather and friend curiously.  
  
"Order business," Remus said seriously. "There were rumours that Lucius Malfoy had been caught while torturing a muggle born. Unfortunately, they were only rumours. I suppose it would have been too good to be true....."  
  
"Why don't you just arrest Malfoy?" Harry asked, piling some vegetables onto his plate. "I mean, everyone knows that he is a Deatheater." Sirius sighed and rubbed his temples wearily.  
  
"Everyone knows alright," he grumbled, "But there's no damn proof! That man is simply too smart, every time we think that we have him he slips away in the last minute! He is Voldemort's right-hand man for a reason. And he has friends in high places. They always help him out of critical situations. Bunch of Voldemort supporters, if you ask me."  
  
Harry listened, shocked.  
  
"But Professor Dumbledore is the minister now!" Harry argued. "Why don't you just throw these people out?"  
  
"I can't do that, my boy," Dumbledore interjected sternly, regarding Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "These people are powerful, most of them are even rather popular with the magical community. Alas, even I can't just throw them out without good reasons. I can, and will, however, make sure that their perfect images will be slowly destroyed, so that in the end, nobody will object when they are removed from their posts."  
  
Harry gaped at his headmaster in shock. He had never pictured Dumbledore to be capable of something so utterly..... Slytherin. The headmaster smiled at him.  
  
"Politics, Harry," he smiled, his eyes twinkling overtime. "Nothing you should concern yourself with. Aren't you going to eat?"  
  
Harry blinked and looked down at his plate. His food was getting cold. Mentally shrugging, Harry stabbed a piece of carrot with his fork and put it into his mouth.  
  
~*~  
  
After dinner, Sirius escorted Harry to his room. Harry stopped short once they had entered. There was a second bed in his room, on the wall opposite of his own.  
  
"Sirius," Harry asked with a frown, "What is the meaning of this?" Sirius sighed.  
  
"The demon, Harry," he reminded his godson patiently. "You mustn't be alone, remember? That means that someone will be staying with you at all times, even at night."  
  
Harry's frown deepened. He was beginning to feel very cross. They were all treating him like a bloody child! He was no child, he was almost fifteen!  
  
"And what are you going to do next?" he asked angrily. "Now I can't even sleep alone. Will you be going into the bathroom with me as well?!"  
  
Sirius was rather shocked at Harry's outburst. He had never seen Harry acting so much like- well, like a teenager.  
  
"Harry," Sirius said soothingly, "Please calm down. Of course I won't go into the bathroom with you. We are only trying to protect you!"  
  
"What if I don't want to be protected?" Harry yelled. "You're treating me like..... like..... like I can't take care of myself! You're treating me like a bloody child!"  
  
Sirius' eyes hardened as he gripped Harry's shoulders tightly.  
  
"Watch your tone, Harry," he said sharply. "And yes, we are treating you like a child, because this is what you are!" Sirius and Harry held a furious staring contest for a few seconds, then all the rage in Harry suddenly seemed to ebb away and he just felt like crying.  
  
"I- I'm sorry Sirius, I don't know what came over me. I know you are only doing what you think is best....."  
  
Sirius sighed as he led Harry to one of the chairs and sat down next to him.  
  
"Harry....." he began, rubbing his temples wearily, "I know that this is hard for you, and I know that you think we shouldn't treat you like a child anymore..... but you have to face the fact that you. Are. Not. Even. Fifteen. Years. Old! ("Three days," Harry muttered.) You have to realise that we are older and more experienced than you are. (A/N: Bla, bla, bla..... Don't we all just hate those kinds of speeches?! I can't believe I'm writing this!!!) So please, trust us on this! You mean a lot to all of us, Harry, not because you are the boy-who-lived, but because of who you are. You are just Harry to us. We are only doing this because we care about you, not because we want to annoy you.!"  
  
Harry nodded, still feeling bitter. He knew this, but it didn't help at all. Sirius sighed as he realized that they weren't getting anywhere.  
  
"Why don't you go to sleep, Harry. I'll send a house-elf to Snape for the potion."  
  
Harry nodded wordlessly and made his way to the bathroom. He took a quick shower and changed into his pyjamas. Hearing voices in his bedroom, Harry put one ear against the door and listened.  
  
"Did you tell him?" came the unmistakable voice of his godmother.  
  
Harry heard a sigh and realized that this had to be Sirius. He felt a little guilty, but continued to listen.  
  
"I did," Sirius said.  
  
"How did he take it?" Another voice. This one belonged to the headmaster.  
  
"Not good," Sirius said sadly. Harry felt even more guilty. "He started yelling at me about how we were treating him like a child and that he could take care of himself, and the likes."  
  
"Harry yelled at you?" His godmother sounded shocked. "I don't think I have ever heard him yell....."  
  
There was a brief silence. Harry realized that it was too silent, and quickly turned on the tap again. Unfortunately, he couldn't understand much of the conversation after that.  
  
".....acting.....age." Harry heard the headmaster say.  
  
"This..... to....more often?" Sirius sounded vaguely horrified. Harry pressed closer to the door.  
  
"I.....so. Harry....." Harry frowned. They were talking about him, and he couldn't understand what they were saying! Quickly he turned the water off.  
  
"Well, I think we should get going now. Sleep well, Sirius." Dumbledore said.  
  
Harry kicked the shower stall in frustration.  
  
"OUCH!"  
  
"You alright in there, Harry?" came Sirius' concerned voice.  
  
"Yeah!" Harry yelled back quickly, hopping around on one leg in pain. "Just fine....."  
  
Two minutes later, he exited the bathroom. Sirius gave him a look.  
  
"What was that about, Harry?" Harry grinned sheepishly.  
  
"Oh, nothing. I just, er- slipped and hit my toe on the shower stall. That's all."  
  
"Ah." Sirius was still eyeing him doubtfully.  
  
"If you don't mind, I'm going to bed now," Harry said quickly. "Do you think you could, um, extinguish the torches?"  
  
"What? Oh, right, yes, of course..... I'll just go to bed myself."  
  
Harry nodded gratefully and Sirius slipped into the bathroom. There was a potion on Harry's bedside which Harry quickly recognised as a dreamless-but- not-visionless sleep potion. Harry got under the covers and uncorked the vial. Taking a deep breath, he gulped the potion down and immediately slumped back in his pillows. The world grew warm and fuzzy, then everything went black.  
  
~*~  
  
The next morning, Harry slept in late. The sun was already up when he awoke, the birds had stopped their early-morning concert. Harry yawned and stretched widely.  
  
"Good morning, Harry."  
  
Harry jumped about a mile, instantly fully awake.  
  
"Oh, hello Sirius. What are you doing here?"  
  
Sirius looked a little cautious as he gestured towards the bed he was sitting on, a book in his hand.  
  
"You know, Harry, I slept here..... because of the demon."  
  
Harry frowned darkly as he remembered his new sleeping arrangements.  
  
"Right." He got up quickly and stretched again. "I'm going for a swim in the great lake now. You coming?"  
  
"Sure," Sirius agreed. He vanished into the bathroom to change while Harry changed in his bedroom. He jumped into the pleasantly warm river and just swam around for a while. Sirius joined him not much later.  
  
"Ready?" he asked, and Harry nodded. They both held their breath and dived under the wall of Harry's room. With a loud splash they landed in the lake's cold water. Sirius let loose a couple of colourful descriptions for the water's temperature. Harry laughed so hard that he thought he would drown.  
  
In the end, they both calmed down and slowly began to swim a lap in the lake. They didn't talk much, knowing that it would only tire them out. After playing a little game of Catch with a few sticks and the giant squid, Harry and Sirius dived back into Harry's room. They enjoyed the warm river for a while.  
  
"Sirius," Harry asked, "What time is it?"  
  
Sirius shrugged.  
  
"When you woke up, it was half past eleven, so I think it should be around noon now."  
  
Harry sputtered in shock.  
  
"Twelve o'clock? I slept this long?"  
  
Sirius grinned.  
  
"I think Snape put something in your potion. Albus told him that you would need much rest after your encounter with the rat."  
  
Harry nodded. He had almost forgotten about the trial. It would be the next day, while Harry's birthday would be the day after that. Sirius roused him from his thoughts.  
  
"You do realize that you have Quidditch practice today, don't you? Mr. Skillridge will collect you at a quarter to three in the Entrance Hall. Albus contacted him about it yesterday."  
  
Harry nodded with a smile. He was looking forward to meeting the team again.  
  
~*~  
  
Not much later, Sirius and Harry went down to the Great Hall for lunch- or rather breakfast in Harry's case. Nobody else was there, as lunch was usually served at one o'clock. They had a wonderful time, Sirius entertained Harry with stories of the marauders. One particular incident which involved the Slytherin Quidditch team and brooms changing into vacuum cleaners while singing the Hogwarts school song, had Harry in tears of laughter.  
  
Dumbledore, Snape and Flitwick chose that particular moment for their entrance. Sirius, of course, was only too happy to enlighten them about Harry's source of entertainment. Dumbledore chuckled merrily, his eyes twinkling overtime, while Flitwick kept falling from his cushions, he was laughing so hard. Snape merely scowled, remembering the incident all too well.  
  
After lunch Sirius left Harry, telling him that he had to prepare for the trial. Remus took his place.  
  
They walked back to Harry's room in comfortable silence. Once there, Remus suggested a few rounds of chess, and Harry agreed. He actually beat Remus, who was a terrible chess player but loved the game nonetheless, twice.  
  
Then, a big eagle owl flew into the room through the open window and handed a note to Remus. The friendly werewolf read it with a frown.  
  
"Harry, I'm sorry, but there is something I need to attend to right now. I'm sorry, but I have to ask that you please go outside until Mr. Skillridge picks you up. The demon won't be able to get you there."  
  
Harry frowned, but nodded. Remus walked him to the front doors.  
  
"What is it that you have to do?" Harry asked curiously. "Does it have anything to do with whatever you were doing yesterday?"  
  
Remus nodded tensely. Harry sighed, knowing that he wouldn't get anymore information.  
  
"Just one question, Remus, what time is it?"  
  
"Half past one, Harry. I'll see you at dinner, and good luck with your Quidditch practice!"  
  
Harry nodded and allowed the door to fall shut behind him.  
  
He surveyed the school grounds calmly, wondering what he could do to pass the time. His mind wandered to the Founder's Realm, but he really didn't feel like walking the whole way there.....  
  
Sighing a little, Harry decided to go down to the lake.  
  
It was a beautiful day. Warm, with a gentle breeze. The air was heavy with humidity, though. Harry wondered if it was going to rain soon. He plopped down under a willow tree at the lake, smiling as he watched a small butterfly.  
  
"Why were you not at the meeting lasssssst Ssssunday?"  
  
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin and whirled around.  
  
"Don't do that!" Harry exclaimed in shock, glaring at the snake in front of him. It was rather small and inconspicuous, a common garden snake.  
  
"Sssssorry," it hissed, sounding vaguely amused. "Ssssso, are you going to anssssswer my quessssstion?"  
  
Harry settled back down.  
  
"Sssssure. I'm ssssssorry I missssssssed our meeting, but I wassss injured and in the hossspital wing."  
  
The snake looked vaguely confused, as far as Harry could tell.  
  
"The hosssspital wing?" it hissed. "What issss that?"  
  
Harry sighed, reminding himself that the snake couldn't possibly know about that.  
  
"It'sssssssss a human thing," Harry said, "It's the placccccce where the sssstudentssss from Hogwartssss go when they are injured or ill."  
  
The snake nodded.  
  
"I've been elected to bring you newssss from the Dark Lord," the snake explained. "Every week, one of the sssnakessssss who hassss been at a meeting will give me information, whichhhhh I will passssss on to you."  
  
Harry nodded in understanding.  
  
"It'sssss nicccce to meet you," he said, "Ssssince we will be meeting quite frequently, do you have a name?"  
  
The snake drew itself up proudly.  
  
"Of coursssssse I do," it said, "My name issss Sssarrasssrina."  
  
It took Harry a while to understand the name through all the hissed s's. The snake's name was Sarrassrina. (A/N: Sara-s-reena)  
  
"That'ssssss a nicccce name," he commented.  
  
"Thankssss," said Sarrassrina. "And what shhhhall I call you, young ssspeaker?"  
  
"Harry. My name issss Harry."  
  
"Very well," Sarrassrina said contently, "I am to tell you of the Dark Lord'sssss meeting. Unfortunately, there isn't muchhhhhh newsssss. The Dark Lord isssss sssstill trying to recuperate from the attack on thissssss prisssson, Azzzzkaban."  
  
Harry nodded. He had expected that much.  
  
"The Dark One isssss alssssso breeding more of thosssse ssstrange creatures he callssss Aychrydssssss, truly tactlesssss thingsssss they are, downright rude."  
  
Harry blinked.  
  
"Wait a moment. You can talk to thessse thingssss ?"  
  
"Of courssse," Sarrassrina said haughtily, "They are part basssilisssk, I think. The Dark Lord communicatessss with them via ssssnake sssssssspeechhhh."  
  
Harry nodded thoughtfully. It was a clever move from Voldemort. That way, he was the only one who could give the Aychryds orders- well, the only one apart from him, Harry. But somehow, Harry doubted that they would take orders from him.  
  
"Isssss there anything elsssse you found out?" He queried.  
  
Sarrassrina shook her head, as good as snakes can shake their heads, anyway.  
  
"I'm afraid not, Harry. The Dark one isssss trying to get hissss followersss to work together better. He issss making them do all sssorts of strange gamesssss and missssionsss. We sssnakessss did not underssstand their purposssse."  
  
Harry grinned, imagining Lucius Malfoy and a few of his fellow Deatheaters sneaking around corners in a maze, trying to find the treasure without being surprised by other groups.  
  
"Thanksssss, Sssarrasssrina," Harry said, smiling at his new friend, "I apprecccciate the information. I will sssssee you again on Sssssssunday, alright?"  
  
Sarrassrina nodded, hissed a goodbye and vanished into the bushes. Harry slumped back down into the grass and thought about what he had just heard.  
  
Soon, he dozed off.  
  
'Harry!'  
  
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.  
  
"Wha- what?"  
  
Nobody answered. Of course, it was the mind-speech link to the Order Council!  
  
'Yes? What is it?' Harry thought.  
  
'Mr. Skillridge will be here in a few minutes,' Harry recognised his godmother's voice, 'I suggest that you go get your broom.'  
  
'Alright.'  
  
Harry got up quickly and steadied himself against the tree as the world started spinning in front of his eyes.  
  
"Ugh," he mumbled.  
  
As soon as the world had righted itself, Harry started to sprint up to the castle. He met Minerva in the entrance hall.  
  
"Looking forward to another Quidditch practice, Harry?" she asked with a smile, seeing the eager look in Harry's eyes.  
  
Harry grinned.  
  
"Sure. I never got to tell you about the first one, you know."  
  
"That's right. You'll have to tell me as soon as you get back."  
  
Harry nodded and gave the password to Merlin's portrait. He quickly scrambled inside and got his broom and Quidditch uniform.  
  
"By the way," Harry said, as they walked back to the entrance hall, "What about Pettigrew? I mean- has he recovered from the curse?"  
  
Minerva looked thoughtful.  
  
"I'm not quite sure, Harry. He is stronger than he was before, that much is certain, but I do not know whether or not he is back to full strength. He is, however, definitely strong enough for the trial, and the ministry's medi-wizard has allowed the administration of Veritaserum to Pettigrew."  
  
Harry nodded. He couldn't wait to see Sirius free! But another thought struck Harry.  
  
"Minerva, what if Sirius is freed? Will I be able to live with him? Or will I live with you? You're both my godparents..... or will I just stay at Hogwarts?"  
  
"For now, Harry, as long as there is war in the wizarding world, you and Mr. Black will have to stay at Hogwarts. Neither of you is save anywhere else. After the war..... we will see."  
  
Harry and Minerva smiled at each other, even though a small voice in Harry's head told him that he most likely would never live to see the end of the war. A sudden 'pop' informed them of Mr. Skillridge's arrival.  
  
"Professor McGonagall, Harry, what a pleasure to see you two! I trust you are ready to go, Harry?"  
  
Harry grinned and waved 'goodbye' at his godmother.  
  
"Of course."  
  
Mr. Skillridge pulled a small stone out from his pocket- it looked exactly like the portkey they had used the week before. He tapped it twice with his wand, said "Quidditch Stadium", and off they were.  
  
Harry decided that he really hated travelling with portkeys. That feeling of a hook behind his navel, the colours swirling nauseatingly around him.....  
  
Harry was glad when his feet slammed into the ground of the stadium. He took a look around- nothing had changed from when he had seen it the week before.  
  
Harry laughed a little at himself. Of course nothing had changed, it had only been a week- even though it felt like more. John (Mr. Skillridge) seemed to sense some of the thoughts running through Harry's mind and grinned at him.  
  
He pocketed the portkey.  
  
"You really don't like travelling by portkey, do you?" he remarked as they strolled inside the stadium towards the changing rooms.  
  
Harry smiled.  
  
"No, I don't," he admitted. "But- I thought Dumbledore said that portkeys did not work anymore on Hogwarts grounds. How did we get here using one?"  
  
"Ah, yes," John said, "I thought Albus explained that to you..... you see, Harry, there are different kinds of portkeys. There are portkeys which activate themselves at a certain time, portkeys which activate themselves as soon as someone touches them..... the first kind is usually one-way.  
  
"And then there is this kind of portkey. I only got it yesterday. It can only be used to reach a specific location, in this case, Hogwarts. It has been keyed to the castle's wards, and I am the only one who can activate it. Normal portkeys don't need to be touched by a wand, but this one does- the portkey checks my magical signature, making sure that it is really me trying to activate it. Then I have to speak the password, and only then the portkey works."  
  
Harry nodded. It made sense, somehow.  
  
"And last week? Didn't you have such a portkey last week?"  
  
John shook his head.  
  
"As I said, I only got this portkey yesterday. Last week's portkey was one- way."  
  
"But aren't such portkeys a little too simple to make? Couldn't just anyone make such a portkey?"  
  
Mr. Skillridge smiled.  
  
"Oh no, Harry. That would be far too easy. The portkey must be made by the keeper of the wards of whatever place you want to portkey to- in Hogwarts' case, this means Albus Dumbledore. Only Albus and two or three of his closest allies know the key to the Hogwarts wards. And neither of them will give the secret away willingly."  
  
Harry nodded and stepped into the changing room, closing the door half behind him. John waited outside.  
  
"But- what if someone forces them to reveal what they know?" Harry asked. "What if someone uses Veritaserum or tortures them?"  
  
"Merlin, let's hope that it never comes to this, Harry. In that case, both the headmaster and his allies have taken a potion which will immediately make them forget the information. They would die without being able to say anything."  
  
Harry shuddered as he finished changing into his robes and stepped out of the changing room. John regarded him with a frown.  
  
"You've grown, Harry."  
  
Harry started and looked down at himself. It was true, the uniform that had fit him so perfectly only the week before, was now about two inches above his ankles.  
  
"But-"he stammered, "How is this possible? It's only been a week! You can't just grow two inches in a week-"  
  
"Well, Harry, you are a wizard. Things like that are possible in the wizarding world- though I will admit that I have never heard of a case like that before. A month, yes..... but a week....."  
  
Harry nodded doubtfully.  
  
"What now, though? Are you going to cast that spell again?"  
  
John smiled as he drew out his wand and simply tapped the robes. Immediately, they adjusted their length and fit Harry perfectly again.  
  
"No need to. The spell I cast is still on them. Every time you see that your robes have become too short, tap them with a wand- any wand will do- and they will immediately fit you again."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Amazing."  
  
John laughed and slung a friendly arm across Harry's shoulders.  
  
"It's magic, Harry. Magic is amazing."  
  
Just as they entered the room where Harry had met the players for the first time, there was a shrill, bell-like sound. Harry cringed.  
  
John grinned at him.  
  
"You'll get used to that some time."  
  
Harry was saved from an answer by the arrival of a short, blond-haired woman who seemed to be about 25 years old.  
  
"Hiya John, Harry!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.  
  
Harry grinned at her.  
  
"Hello Ann."  
  
(A/N: Ann Lee, she's one of the chasers, remember? If you want a more detailed description, go read chapter eight, The Attack on Azkaban, again. Just for the record: Alex McDougal- Keeper, Samantha Strey- Chaser, Ann Lee- Chaser, Matthew Curdigan- Chaser, Gill Kane- Beater, Jean Iron- Beater. Harry's the Seeker. ^_^)  
  
There was no time for a longer conversation, however, as the other team members appeared almost at the same time. A chorus of greetings was exchanged, then the team trudged outside into the stadium.  
  
"We begin as usual," John instructed, "Ten laps around the field."  
  
"Ten?" Harry whispered in alarm to Alex, who was standing next to him. "That's twice as many as last time!"  
  
Alex grinned as they started to jog slowly.  
  
"Well, you missed a few practices, Harry," he said matter-of-factly, "John added one lap to our exercise each time we met. Don't worry if you don't manage all ten laps, you've only had one practice after all, and after that little escapade of yours last Wednesday, I daresay you still tire a little easier than usual."  
  
Harry looked at the Keeper in surprise.  
  
"You know about that?"  
  
"Of course we know," Gill answered instead, having listened to their conversation. "We were wondering why you weren't at practice last week, you know, and we annoyed John with our questions until he told us."  
  
She grinned at him, and Harry grinned back.  
  
"You should stop talking now," Matthew commented, "Or all of you will be collapsing after the ten laps."  
  
Harry grinned some more and they continued in silence. After only three laps, it became apparent to Harry that he really wasn't fully recovered. He was starting to feel more and more tired, and he was getting a stitch in his sides. Biting his lip, Harry concentrated on his feet and tried to ignore his exhaustion. The other team members threw him worried glances, but Harry ignored them.  
  
After the fifth lap, Harry felt as if he might just collapse. Fortunately, John had noticed that as well, because the next time the team passed him, he stopped Harry.  
  
"That's enough for now, boy," John said firmly. "Take a little break and then start stretching. The others will join you as soon as they are done."  
  
Harry was too exhausted to even bother with protest. He just nodded and plopped down on the soft grass. John threw him a concerned glance and went back to observing the other players.  
  
Harry closed his eyes for a while, breathing in and out deeply. He listened to the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of his team-mates' feet and calmed his breathing. Slowly, some of Harry's strength returned. After about five minutes, Harry got up and began his stretching exercises.  
  
By the time he had finished the other players arrived, panting slightly. Harry watched as they stretched, then grabbed his broomstick and waited for John's orders.  
  
"Well done, team," he praised. "Today's practice will be about special moves. I have invented a few. The first one is called Chaser's Feint for now, though the Beaters also take part in it."  
  
John proceeded to explain the new move. Harry had to grin, it sounded like it would work very well, especially as it could be varied.  
  
Basically, the Chasers and Beaters had to fly very close together, so close that they were actually touching, and form a line in the air. The other team would not know who had the Quaffle since they wouldn't be able to see anything but a blur, as the flyers would be flying at top speed.  
  
About twenty feet from the goal posts, the players had to split up: Two flying off to the right and two to the left, leaving the middle person, a Chaser, to fly straight towards the goal. Naturally, the opposing team would assume that this person had the Quaffle and would try to block him/her- when in reality one of the Chasers who flew off to the side had it and would be able to score with relative ease.  
  
The second time they performed this move the Chaser on the other side would have the Quaffle- and the third time, when both Chasers on the sides would be blocked, the Chaser in the middle.  
  
(A/N: Hehe, this was fun! I claim that move- if it doesn't already exist!)  
  
After about half an hour, they were done with the theory- John had made it much more interesting than Oliver, and the team was dying to try the new moves out. Harry himself got to take part in a few of the moves, but since he was the seeker and had to keep an eye out for the Snitch all the time, he couldn't do too much.  
  
The rest of the time was spent actually trying the moves out, changing them around, discovering varieties, perfecting them. In all his time playing Quidditch, Harry had never had this much fun.  
  
After realizing that the other players were genuinely interested in his opinion and saw him as an equal, not just a kid, Harry took part in the discussions. At the end of practice they had designed seven new moves and were feeling extremely confident for the new Quidditch session.  
  
"Say, Jean," Harry asked the man next to him as they were changing back into their normal clothes after practice and a shower, "When exactly is our first Quidditch match? Against whom will we play? And where will it be?"  
  
Jean smiled at Harry with a strange gleam in his mischievous, grey eyes.  
  
"You don't know?" he asked, grinning like a Cheshire-Cat. "John or Dumbledore haven't told you?"  
  
Harry shook his head mutely.  
  
Jean's grin, if possible, widened.  
  
"Well, my young friend, you're in for a surprise." Jean paused dramatically. "Our first game will be on October first, against the Vice- World-Champion, Bulgaria, with Victor Krum no less, who has won the Best- Seeker-Of-The-Year-Award two years in a row now. Oh yeah, and the game will be at Hogwarts."  
  
*Crash* *Clutter*  
  
Harry had stumbled over his own legs and landed hard on the stone floor, his broom crashing down with him. Harry sat there gaping and staring up at his hysterically laughing team mates.  
  
"You're kidding," he managed weakly, "Please tell me that you're kidding!"  
  
The others shook their heads, grinning widely. Harry let himself slump backwards until he was lying completely on the cool stone floor. He was feeling slightly dizzy.  
  
"Harry?!" came a concerned voice from the doorway. "Are you alright? I heard a crash and-?"  
  
John entered the room fully, closing the door behind him.  
  
"Please tell me it's not true," moaned Harry, "Please tell me that our first game is not against Krum and not at Hogwarts!"  
  
John sounded vaguely apologetic as he helped Harry up.  
  
"Sorry, Harry. It's really true. But-"he added quickly, "It's for your own benefit, really."  
  
Harry snorted.  
  
"My benefit? How so? I get to make a fool of myself in front of the whole school, hell, the whole WORLD, by losing spectacularly against Victor Krum?"  
  
Alex tut-tutted.  
  
"First of all, Harry," he said sternly, "You won't make a fool of yourself. You're the damn best seeker I've ever seen. I wouldn't be surprised if you beat Krum. But-"He held up his hand, quelling Harry's furious protest- "- even if you don't, nobody will hold it against you. Krum hasn't lost a single game during the past two years, there is simply nobody as good as him. Well, maybe except for you. We'll see."  
  
Harry sighed, not feeling much better.  
  
"And why is the game at Hogwarts?"  
  
"Simple," Matthew grinned, "Because you are there. It's tradition that whenever there is a new player on a national team, their next game is held in the Quidditch stadium closest to their current hometown. In your case, that is Hogwarts."  
  
Harry sighed as he finished buttoning up his shirt.  
  
"I guess," he said. "John, how will I be getting back to Hogwarts?"  
  
"I will be taking you, of course," John said matter-of-factly. "We will be using the portkey again."  
  
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. No more Knight Bus.  
  
Shortly after that, Harry said goodbye to his team-mates and he and John portkeyed back to Hogwarts. The entrance hall was deserted.  
  
"Well," John said cheerfully, slapping Harry's shoulder, "I must be off. Good-bye, Harry, and I hope you will actually manage to come to the next practice."  
  
Harry blushed, but John was smiling mischievously.  
  
"Bye, John," Harry said with a smile, and then the man tapped his wand against the portkey, gave the password and vanished with a slight 'pop'.  
  
Harry was alone in the entrance hall. Something wasn't quite right, Harry could tell. There was something in the back of his mind, something he had forgotten..... the torches on the wall began to flicker precariously.  
  
"Oh, shit," Harry said softly, "Damn, damn, damn. This is not happening."  
  
He closed his eyes firmly and concentrated on his link with the Order members.  
  
*Sirius? Remus? Minerva? Anyone?* Harry thought desperately.  
  
There was a short silence, then-  
  
*Harry?*  
  
It was Sirius. Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm down as the light in the torches died completely and a chilly wind picked up. Something was darkening the windows as well.  
  
*Sirius,* Harry thought desperately, *I'm in the entrance hall. There's nobody with me. That thing is coming. It's all dark and windy-*  
  
*Hold on, Harry,* came Dumbledore's mental voice, *We're in the defence classroom. We're coming.*  
  
Harry bit his lip. The defence classroom was quite far away from his current location, so it would take them a few minutes to get to him.  
  
"Well, Potter," a high, cold voice hissed, "It seems that we meet again. Your friends are not very cautious about not leaving you alone, are they?" The voice laughed softly, chillingly. It came from all around Harry, echoing off the walls, closing in on him.  
  
"Think we will have another..... session? I really enjoyed the one with the graveyard, did you not?"  
  
Harry turned around wildly. Where was the demon? Why couldn't he see him? Not another 'session', please..... Harry realized that what he needed most right now was time.  
  
"Who are you?" he blurted out quickly.  
  
The terrible voice laughed softly.  
  
"I, stupid boy," it hissed, "Am your worst nightmare. My name- is Salazar Slytherin."  
  
Harry gasped, completely speechless.  
  
The voice- Slytherin- chuckled scornfully.  
  
"You didn't expect that, did you, boy?" he said, a sneer in his voice. "Yesss- I have come to seek my revenge.....on you."  
  
"Why?" whispered Harry, shocked. "What have I done to you?"  
  
Slytherin, again, laughed scornfully. An icy gust of wind hit Harry in the face, making him stumble backwards.  
  
"You, stupid little boy," hissed the demon, "Have banished me."  
  
Harry blinked.  
  
"I- what? I banished you?"  
  
The demon sighed, apparently exasperated. It was an eerie sound, echoing all around the room. Harry turned some more, beginning to feel quite paranoid.  
  
"Let me explain then, young fool," Slytherin-demon hissed. "You may know that, while I was still alive, I strived for immortality."  
  
Harry nodded, even though he did not know if Slytherin could see him in the total darkness. Dumbledore had mentioned that in their first conversation about the demon.  
  
"Good. Well, apparently..... I was rather successful..... though not completely so...... I survived, for hundreds of years..... to weak to really do anything..... biding my time, waiting for only one thing..... my true heir....."  
  
Harry shuddered.  
  
"Voldemort."  
  
It was not a question.  
  
"Yesssss....." the demon hissed, his voice coming from behind Harry. Harry spun around and raised his wand, but he couldn't see anything.  
  
*Hurry up!* Harry thought desperately.  
  
*We can't go any faster!* came Remus' worried mental voice. *Oh- damn it, not now! Harry, the corridors changed on us-*  
  
Harry almost groaned and quickly listened to the ever-circling demon.  
  
"My heir, Tom Marvolo Riddle..... how he hated it when I called him by that name....."  
  
The demon chuckled. The sound was not in any way nice or soothing, however. It was cold and sharp enough to cut steel.  
  
"I influenced him, of course....." Slytherin hissed, "It was so very easy..... he was just a young, impressionable child when I found him, barely six years old..... living at that dreadful orphanage. I made sure that he got training in the Dark Arts before he ever attended Hogwarts. I made sure that he was sorted into my house..... I made sure that he became the most powerful wizard in this world, helped him become what he was fourteen years ago, helped him on his path to rule the world..... we were successful..... nobody could stand against us for long..... Voldemort would finish my task for me..... to rid this world of those who are unworthy of living..... those whose blood is polluted by mudblood....."  
  
Harry clenched his fists and mouth shut. Voldemort himself was only half- blood! But Harry didn't think that the demon would appreciate his remark, so he kept silent.  
  
"And then," the demon hissed, "There was you! You, in one night, destroyed the work of a thousand years! You almost killed my true heir, and you- a mere infant! banished me!"  
  
Harry was blasted off his feet and thrown backwards into a wall. He gasped for air desperately.  
  
"I was banished," Slytherin continued more calmly, "Banished into the headstone of my grave..... Godric had a field day when he put it there..... one last humiliation from him to me, a marble angel....."  
  
Harry slowly regained his breath.  
  
"Gryffindor supplied your grave stone?" he asked incredulously.  
  
The demon laughed cynically.  
  
"Oh, yes. Loathe as I am to admit it, the foolish man beat me in a fair wizard's duel..... thirteen years after I had left the school. It was a duel of life and death. Gryffindor"-he spat the name- "killed me- and since he was the one to end my..... life in duel, he had to be the one to bury me as well..... it's wizard's custom, but you wouldn't know about it, young fool....."  
  
The demon seemed to think for a while. This gave Harry time for another mind call.  
  
*How long? I'm not sure how much longer I can hold him off!*  
  
*Almost there,* came Sirius' panting voice, *Two minutes, Harry. The stupid corridor carried us all the way up to Trelawney's classroom.*  
  
Harry mentally groaned. Slytherin's voice broke him out of his thoughts.  
  
"Isn't it ironic, Potter," the demon hissed, "That you were the cause of both my imprisonment fourteen years ago, and my new-found freedom?"  
  
Harry gasped.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yesss, Potter," the demon sounded like it was smiling cruelly, "I was very surprised myself..... let me make this a little clearer for you..... my grave is on Little Hangleton's graveyard....."  
  
Harry looked at him blankly.  
  
"The same place where my true heir's father is buried..... the same place where my true heir returned only weeks ago....."  
  
Harry gasped as he remembered.....  
  
***************************FLASHBACK****************************  
  
Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed; he zig-zagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following him, hearing them hit the headstones – he was dodging curses and graves, pelting towards Cedric's body, no longer aware of the pain in his leg, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do –  
  
"Stun him!" he heard Voldemort scream.  
  
Ten feet from Cedric, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it.....  
  
**************************END FLASHBACK************************  
  
"Yesss....." Slytherin hissed maliciously, "Do you remember it now? When the angel's wing shattered, I was set free..... but most unfortunately, my imprisonment in the stone statue had made me almost solid..... the force of the stunning spells sent me tumbling into you..... you, of course, did not notice..... I was whisked away with the portkey..... I was disoriented and confused, blinded by the sudden noise and colours...... it was only once we were in the castle that I finally managed to detach myself from you..... and I haven't been able to leave since then."  
  
Harry was absolutely speechless. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. He didn't know how to react. He didn't know what to do or say, when-  
  
"But enough dilly-dallying," the demon said sharply, "You, Potter are going to pay for what you have done to me. You are going to pay n-"  
  
*Crash*  
  
The doors on the top of the marble staircase flew open.  
  
"Lumos!" a voice exclaimed loudly, and instantly they were bathed in bright light.  
  
The demon, wherever it was, shrieked loudly and hissed, "We will meet again, Potter!"  
  
Then, the torches on the wall flickered back to life, and the swirling darkness on the edges of the room vanished.  
  
Harry stared speechlessly up at the three adults on the top of the stairs. He was still huddled against the wall, shivering ever so slightly. Dumbledore, Sirius and Remus hurried down the stairs and towards Harry.  
  
Sirius helped him stand up.  
  
"Are you alright, kid? The demon didn't hurt you, did it?"  
  
"No," Harry said dazedly, rubbing the back of his head where it had hit the wall. He could feel a small bump forming. "No, it's alright, you were on time, only just....."  
  
Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into his headmaster's kind eyes.  
  
"Let's take this up to my office, Harry."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
They made their way to the stone gargoyle in silence, Sirius and Remus throwing the still dazed Harry concerned looks from time to time.  
  
"Fizzing Whizbees," said Dumbledore and they all stepped on to the moving staircase and let it carry them up to the headmaster's office. Once up there, Dumbledore led them through the door to the sitting room-like chamber Harry had been in before when they had discussed the demon. Almost automatically, Harry went to sit in 'his' armchair. The others claimed seats as well.  
  
Harry proceeded to tell them what had happened in the entrance hall. By the time he had finished his tale, they were all frowning heavily.  
  
"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said, frowning deeply. "This is both good and bad news."  
  
The other three looked at him in surprise.  
  
"It is good news because we know the identity of the demon now..... this might help us eliminate him. It is bad news because Slytherin is quite possibly the most powerful dark wizard who has ever existed."  
  
Harry gulped.  
  
"Another bit of good news, at least for the students and staff here at Hogwarts, is that the demon seems to be intent on getting revenge solely on you, Harry..... this means that if we protect you well, which we will, nobody else will be in danger from him."  
  
Harry nodded doubtfully.  
  
"Enough of this for now," the headmaster said firmly. "I will inform John of the circumstances so that we don't have a repeat of today's events. But there is another, more important thing we need to discuss with you."  
  
Harry frowned  
  
"What is it?" he asked curiously.  
  
Sirius sighed and leaned back in his seat.  
  
"It's the trial, Harry," he said tiredly, "You might be called as a witness."  
  
Harry gasped and sat up straight.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"We're sorry, Harry," Remus said apologetically, "We did not know ourselves until this afternoon. Apparently, Pettigrew's barrister, who is no other than Nethan Nott, a known Death Eater, has requested that our barrister get more witnesses. He claims that the word of a werewolf and an escaped convict will not be enough.."  
  
Harry frowned.  
  
"And so you decided to add a not quite fifteen-year-old to the list?"  
  
Remus grinned.  
  
"Ah, but Harry, you are not just any not-quite-fifteen-year-old. You are the Boy-Who-Lived. People trust you, now that your name has been cleared again. After we suggested you as a witness, they were perfectly happy."  
  
Harry snorted and turned to Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"What about you, Professor? Wouldn't it be better if you were to be a witness at this trial?"  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled down at Harry.  
  
"Ah, but my dear boy," he said, "I can't. I am to be Sirius's barrister."  
  
"Oh," Harry said softly. Then- "What happens at a wizard's trial?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded and retrieved a stack of parchments from his office.  
  
"This, Harry," he explained at Harry's quizzical gaze, "Are the plans for the trial. Since Pettigrew is the accused, he will be given Veritaserum. Nethan Nott, as the defendant's lawyer, will then question him. He will, of course, try to play Pettigrew's crimes down and question him mainly about his years at school where he was still loyal to his friends."  
  
Harry frowned deeply.  
  
"But he wasn't. Loyal, I mean. Not really..... Pettigrew told me how bitter he felt at school, how jealous. If he tells all that, there won't be a chance for Nott to prove the rat's innocence!"  
  
But Dumbledore shook his head.  
  
"It's not quite as easy, Harry," he said seriously. "Veritaserum, while it makes the drinker tell the absolute truth, still leaves them a certain freedom in what they say. Unless they have been stunned before they take the potion and enervated only for the questioning, the drinker is able to think, and to a certain extend, evade incriminating answers. Since this is a public trial, Pettigrew will definitely not be stunned before his statement."  
  
Harry nodded in understanding.  
  
"So Nott will ask him questions that allow Pettigrew to give positive answers?"  
  
"Exactly, Harry," Sirius answered. "The trick with any interrogation is to ask the right questions. Albus, please go on."  
  
"After the administration of Veritaserum to the accused, Nethan will be allowed to question his client. After the questioning he will give a statement that he believes in his client's innocence and intents to prove it. After that, the other barrister, that is I, will be allowed to question Pettigrew as well. After my questioning, Pettigrew's guilt will be as good as proved. However, the formalities require me to find witnesses. Sirius, being our key witness as well as secondary accused-"  
  
"Hang on there," Harry interrupted, "I thought Pettigrew was the accused. How can there be two people charged with the same crimes at the same trial?"  
  
Sirius grinned.  
  
"It works in the wizarding world, Harry," he said seriously. "Wizarding trials are different from muggle trials. In this trial, it will be determined which of us has committed the crimes we are both accused of. However, since I was the one to officially press charges, Pettigrew is the primary accused, while I am the secondary accused."  
  
"Wow," Harry said, amazed. The wizarding world was really strange.  
  
"May I proceed now?"  
  
Harry blushed a little and nodded to his headmaster (who was smiling indulgently).  
  
"As I said," Dumbledore continued, "Sirius, being our key witness as well as secondary accused, will also be given Veritaserum. I will question him first, then give my statement. After that, it will be clear that Sirius here is innocent of the main charges."  
  
"Main charges?" Harry inquired.  
  
Sirius grimaced.  
  
"I've not only been accused of being a Death Eater, murdering your mum and dad and killing twelve muggles, Harry. I've also been accused of hurting an underage student, breaking into Hogwarts and more specifically Gryffindor Tower and stealing a potentially dangerous magical creature."  
  
"Oh." said Harry. "But that's not so bad, is it? I mean, you broke into Gryffindor Tower to protect us, no me, from Pettigrew, and you didn't hurt any students, and we stole Buckbeak for you."  
  
But Sirius shook his head grimly.  
  
"Think, Harry. When I broke into Gryffindor Tower, I damaged a portrait in my desperation to get to you. You're saying that I've never hurt a student? Remember what happened to Ron when I dragged him into the Whomping Willow?"  
  
Harry blanched. Ron's leg had been broken.  
  
Sirius nodded grimly.  
  
"Exactly. And Harry, think. If they discover how Buckbeak has been stolen, you, Hermione and Albus here, as well as Minerva, because she vouched for Hermione, will be in big trouble. And I mean Big Trouble. Changing time is one of the most serious law- breakings in the wizarding world you could possibly commit. You and Hermione might be expelled from Hogwarts, Minerva might lose her teaching position and Albus might be fired by the school board."  
  
"Oh, Merlin," Harry whispered, having gone very pale. "What are we going to do, Sirius?"  
  
Sirius shook his head helplessly.  
  
"There's nothing we can do, Harry," he said, "Since I'm going to have to take Veritaserum, I will reveal that fact in Nott's cross-examination. When you are questioned you will have to make sure that everyone understands how this happened and that I am deeply sorry for it."  
  
Harry nodded nervously.  
  
"But- what about the time-turner incident?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed deeply.  
  
"We will have to pray that the jury will forgive it, after hearing our reasons. Many carefully hidden facts are going to come to light in this trial, Harry. Be sure to tell the absolute truth, even though you will not be under Veritaserum."  
  
Harry nodded anxiously. There was a sickening feeling in his stomach, he felt more excited than before exams.  
  
"Now," Dumbledore said, smiling soothingly at his student, "After Sirius's questioning, Nethan will be allowed to call his first witness. They will be questioned by both him and myself. After that, I will call my first witness, which will be Remus here. He will be questioned by both of us as well. After that, Nethan will be allowed to call in his next witness, and so on. Don't worry, the maximum number of allowed witnesses is ten, so the trial won't go on forever. After the questioning of the last witness, none of whom shall be under Veritaserum, Nethan and myself have to give another statement. After that, there will be a pause, allowing us and the spectators to have a late lunch. The jury will have their first meeting."  
  
"How long is this going to take?" Harry wanted to know. "When will the trial begin?"  
  
"The trial starts at nine o'clock in the morning," Remus answered, "And the first part, which is by far the most important and longest, will take about five hours."  
  
Harry exhaled loudly. That would be a long, nerve-racking procedure.  
  
"After the break," Dumbledore picked up again, "The jury will be allowed to ask questions. They will be allowed to call up witnesses from both sides and question them themselves. When all questions are cleared up, Nethan and myself are allowed to make a final statement, in which we will plead for the lightest possible punishment for our clients. After that, the jury will meet and come to a decision. The verdict will be presented by one of the jury members. The judge will lead us through the trial and make sure that things don't get out of hand. We are hoping for a very positive outcome, Harry."  
  
Harry nodded, his stomach churning with the thoughts of his own questioning.  
  
"Will Ron and Hermione have to appear as witnesses as well? They were with me in the shrieking shack."  
  
Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger will be questioned after you, but she will only have to confirm your statement. She will portkey directly to the ministry court building at seven-forty. As for Mr. Weasley, he will be unable to attend due to the fact that he is currently in Romania. I'm afraid that we have no floo connections outside of Britain, and Mr. Weasley is not able to apparate. He would have to get here by muggle means or use a portkey, which takes some time to prepare, but I am afraid that the owl I sent him will not reach him in time."  
  
Harry nodded again, biting his lip.  
  
"Who else will be there? As witnesses?"  
  
"Aside from yourself, Remus and Miss Granger?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully.  
  
"Well, there will be mostly people from the Order who knew Sirius at school..... mostly to confirm Sirius' friendship with James. Hagrid will also have to give a short statement, even though he is not one of the official witnesses."  
  
Harry nodded in a daze. He was not looking forward to the next day.  
  
~*~  
  
The next morning, Harry was woken by a very anxious godfather.  
  
"Harry!" Sirius called softly, shaking him gently. "Wake up!"  
  
"Whassamatter?" Harry mumbled sleepily. A glance at the clock on the wall showed him that it was half past six.  
  
"Si'ius! 'smushtooearly!"  
  
Sirius chuckled.  
  
"You have to get up, Harry, I'm sorry. Today's the trial, remember?"  
  
Harry growled and turned over.  
  
"don'care. Wannasleep."  
  
Sirius sighed dramatically.  
  
"I'm sorry, godson-of-mine, you leave me no choice."  
  
Sirius ripped away Harry's bed covers, scooped the boy up in his arms, and dropped him in the icy cold river. Harry gasped and spluttered as he instantly woke up.  
  
"SIRIUS!!! ARE YOU MAD?! I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS!!!"  
  
But Harry's godfather was already out of reach, laughing hard. Harry glowered at him as he finally remembered that he was able to change the water temperature.  
  
It turned from freezing cold (courtesy of Sirius) to bathtub-warm. The swift change of temperature left Harry breathless for a moment before he relaxed.  
  
Sirius, meanwhile, had managed to compose himself.  
  
"What? Are you going to stay in there? You do know that you're still wearing pyjamas, don't you, Harry?"  
  
Harry glared at him.  
  
"I figured that since they were already wet, I might as well keep them on."  
  
Sirius grinned- Harry noticed only then that he was wearing swimming trunks- and slipped into the river as well. They swam around for a while, Harry dunking Sirius as often as he could to get revenge for his rude awakening.  
  
Finally, they got out, dressed in their best, formal dress-robes and went down into the great hall for breakfast. Remus, Dumbledore, Snape and Minerva were already there, all dressed up like they were.  
  
They ate in silence. Harry's stomach was churning in anticipation and dread, and if it hadn't been for the adults' constant nagging, he wouldn't have eaten a thing. As it was, they made him eat a giant pile of pancakes and some fruit, all claiming that he would need his strength later on. At one point, when Harry refused to eat any more, Sirius threatened that he would force-feed him if he didn't. After that, Harry ate his breakfast without complaint.  
  
Somewhere half-way through the meal, an owl with the Daily Prophet arrived. Harry glanced at the headline and almost spit his orange juice across the table.  
  
The headline read:  
  
BLACK VERSUS PETTIGREW: THE TRIAL OF THE CENTURY  
  
Sirius grinned at Harry.  
  
"Always one for dramatics, those reporters, eh?"  
  
But Harry could tell that Sirius was just as nervous as him.  
  
They were done at seven-thirty and walked into the small chamber beside the great hall.  
  
"Why must we leave so early?" Harry complained as he- unsuccessfully- tried to stifle a huge yawn. "I mean, the tr- the t-"Harry yawned again, "the trial doesn't start until nine o'clock."  
  
"It's the rules," said Remus. "Everyone who is going to be directly involved in the trial- which we are- must be at the court at least an hour in advance. At least this way, you will have more time with your friend."  
  
Harry nodded, brightening a little.  
  
"What about you, Professor?" Harry asked Snape. "Will you be a witness as well?"  
  
Snape shook his head.  
  
"No, at least I don't think so. In wizarding trials, everything is possible. I will, however, supply the Veritaserum."  
  
Harry nodded, a little astonished. But he supposed that he shouldn't be. Veritaserum, from what he knew, was extremely dangerous and difficult to brew, and Snape was one of the world's best Potions Masters. Certainly the best in Europe.  
  
"I trust you know how to floo?" Dumbledore asked politely. Harry nodded and grabbed a pinch of floo powder from a vase the headmaster offered him.  
  
"Where to?" Harry asked.  
  
"Just watch," said Remus, as he threw the floo powder into the flames. The flames turned green in an instant and Remus stepped in.  
  
"Ministry Court Building, room seven, case #15682, secondary witness, Remus Lupin."  
  
The fire glowed golden for a second, then Remus disappeared.  
  
"Whoa," said Harry.  
  
Sirius grinned.  
  
"The Court building is one of the most secure in the wizarding world."  
  
Harry nodded and threw his floo powder into the flames. He stepped in and said VERY clearly:  
  
"Ministry Court Building, room seven, case #15682, secondary witness, Harry Potter."  
  
Again, the flames glowed golden for a second, then Harry was swept away. He closed his eyes and tucked his elbows tightly to his sides. The journey seemed longer than usual; after a minute, Harry was sure that he would throw up.  
  
Finally, he was thrown out of a fireplace, just barely managing to catch himself so he didn't land flat on his face. Harry was pleased to note that he had managed to stay quite clean, he brushed what little soot there was off quickly.  
  
Looking around, Harry realized that he was in a relatively small room. It was bare except for the fireplace. Harry shrugged to himself and stepped towards the door. Two relatively young wizards intercepted him.  
  
"Name?" The first one asked curtly.  
  
"Oh..... Harry, Harry Potter." Harry said, a little surprised.  
  
He watched with a little annoyance as the eyes of the two wizards did the customary flick up to his forehead.  
  
"What an honour to meet you, Mr. Potter!" The second wizard exclaimed enthusiastically, shaking Harry's hand wildly.  
  
"Um," said Harry.  
  
"Please don't be offended by our questions, it's the law, you understand....." the first one said, pushing his colleague aside and shaking Harry's hand instead.  
  
"Er," said Harry.  
  
"Mr. Potter, do you think that you could, well, sign this card here for me? It's for my little daughter, you see, she's a great fan of yours?"  
  
"Uh," said Harry.  
  
"I think that will be enough." a firm voice behind Harry said. At the same time, a hand was put on his shoulder. Never in his life had Harry been so glad to see Severus Snape.  
  
"Oh, P-P-Professor!" The first wizard exclaimed.  
  
Harry realized with a grin that he must have been a student of Professor Snape's not too long ago.  
  
"Mr. Winters," Snape responded coolly. "Do you think that you could let Mr. Potter and myself pass now without causing a scene?"  
  
Both wizards blushed brightly.  
  
"R-right, Mr. Potter," the second one stammered. "Um, reason for your p- presence?"  
  
Harry had to fight back a grin when he saw how unsettled the man was because of his former Potion Master's glare.  
  
"I am to be a witness at the trial number 15682," Harry said politely.  
  
The man nodded hastily and scribbled it down.  
  
"You may p-pass, Mr. Potter."  
  
Harry thanked the man with a grin. About five seconds later, Snape was standing next to him in the gigantic entrance hall.  
  
"That was fast," Harry remarked.  
  
"Yes, well," said Snape, a devilish glint in his eyes, "He was a Hufflepuff."  
  
Harry burst out laughing.  
  
After another five minutes or so, the rest of their group had arrived.  
  
"What are we supposed to do now?" Harry asked, realizing that they still had much more than an hour until the trial would start.  
  
Dumbledore pulled out his pocket watch and studied it for a few seconds.  
  
"Ms. Granger should be arriving any time," he said, "I suggest that you, Harry, wait out here for her, while the rest of you should follow me to the court room."  
  
Harry nodded in agreement. He knew that it was safe for him to stay alone in the Court building. Nobody would dare to harm him in front of the ministry officials' eyes.  
  
Suddenly, Harry heard a sound from the small side room with the fireplace.  
  
"Name," came the muffled voice of one of the wizards.  
  
"Hermione Granger."  
  
Harry broke into a wide grin. Hermione was there! It took only half a minute for her to answer all kinds of questions, then Harry saw her step into the entrance hall. She spotted him immediately.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione squealed and launched herself at Harry. Laughing, he hugged her back. It was so great to see his friend again!  
  
"Hermione! How are you?"  
  
"I'm great! Oh, Harry, my parents took me to Italy for two weeks, you wouldn't believe what an amazing wizarding culture they have! I redid my history essay completely, and I added a few Italian plants to my Herbology project, you know, the one where we're supposed to describe the properties of at least fifteen magical herbs, and now it's ten scrolls long instead of six, I hope Professor Sprout won't mind....."  
  
With a big grin Harry listened to his friend's chattering. He had truly missed Hermione. After about three minutes, Harry said tentatively:  
  
"Um.....Hermione?"  
  
"And you wouldn't believe what- oh- yes, Harry?"  
  
"Didn't you want to go to Bulgaria with Krum?"  
  
"Oh," Hermione said, "Yes, I wanted to- but my parents didn't want me to go. They said that they didn't like for me to spend two weeks with a boy they don't even know."  
  
"Oh," said Harry. Then, a little awkwardly, "Are you and Victor, um..... you know?"  
  
Hermione giggled a little.  
  
"No, we aren't," she said, "We're just friends."  
  
"Ah," said Harry. He was surprised at how relieved he felt by this news.  
  
"So, um- shall we go in?"  
  
Hermione nodded and they walked towards the great doors Harry had seen his professors and Sirius disappear through.  
  
They stopped in front of the heavy oak doors.  
  
"I'm scared," Hermione admitted quietly.  
  
"Me as well," Harry mumbled.  
  
"I'm sure it'll be alright," Hermione said.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said.  
  
They glanced at each other.  
  
"Oh hell," said Harry, "Let's get this over with. We're Gryffindors after all."  
  
Together, they pushed the doors open and stepped into the Court room. The doors swung closed behind them, and Harry and Hermione were left staring in awe at the room in front of them.  
  
This was not the small, dingy court room Harry had seen in Dumbledore's pensieve. This room was not dungeon-like, the benches were not wooden..... it looked more like a theatre than anything else, really.  
  
The room was gigantic. The great hall of Hogwarts could easily have fit into this room at least five times. Everything was done in red and gold. Gryffindor colours, Harry and Hermione realized with a grin. The seats, even those of the spectators, were a deep, red velvet, looking extremely comfortable. Harry guessed that at least ten thousand people could fit into the gigantic room. The jury's bench was at the front of the room, facing away from the spectators. In the middle, there was a throne-like armchair behind a beautifully carved table, obviously the judge's place. To the left and the right of the judge, there were several comfortable-looking long benches, apparently designed to hold the witnesses.  
  
On each side, there was also a raised stand. Harry guessed that this was where the people being questioned sat.  
  
In the benches on the right side of the room, Harry could make out Dumbledore and the others. He gestured at Hermione and the two of them went down the carpeted marble steps to sit on one of the benches.  
  
"Hermione!" Sirius exclaimed. "It's good to see you again!"  
  
"Hello, Sirius," Hermione grinned, "Hello, Professors."  
  
The professors either nodded to her with a smile or greeted her, then they went back to their conversations.  
  
"Professor Lupin!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise.  
  
The werewolf smiled at her.  
  
"Hello, Hermione," he said, "It is good to see you again. Please, call me Remus while it's still the holidays."  
  
"Still the holidays?" Hermione asked excitedly, "Does that mean that you are coming back to teach?"  
  
"Yes," Remus grinned at his student's enthusiasm, "I'm teaching Defence again this year."  
  
Then he turned back to Professor McGonagall.  
  
"I can't believe it," Hermione said happily, "We will actually learn a lot this year! It's important that we have a good teacher, what with the OWLs approaching and everything."  
  
Harry grinned and nodded. Of course Hermione wouldn't have forgotten about the Ordinary Wizarding Levels they would be taking in the end of the year.  
  
The rest of the time they spent chatting about their summers. Hermione told Harry about the great time she had had in Italy, while Harry told Hermione about everything that had happened to him so far (eliciting many gasps)..... even the fact that he was now playing on the English National Quidditch Team. Ron and Hermione would have to cover for him when he was at training.  
  
Upon receiving this news Hermione squealed again and squeezed Harry in a gigantic hug.  
  
"Oh Harry, that's so great!"  
  
"'ermione," Harry choked, "Can't.....breathe!"  
  
"Sorry, Harry," she released him immediately. "But you do realize that you mustn't neglect your studies because of this, don't you? As you know, we're taking our OWLs this year and it is extremely important that you don't fall behind-"  
  
Harry clapped a gentle hand in front of her mouth.  
  
"Don't worry, Hermione," he said firmly, "I won't. Besides, I have a feeling that with my new powers, keeping up with my studies won't be a problem."  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
"I still can't believe that you're the heir of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Merlin! Harry, you must be so powerful!"  
  
She continued like that for a while, making Harry blush very deeply. The devilish grin Sirius and Remus wore while watching them told Harry that he would be teased mercilessly for the rest of his life.  
  
Harry was glad when Hermione finally agreed to change the subject.  
  
About half an hour before the trial was due to begin, the doors burst open again and a mass of people streamed into the room, claiming the best seats they could reach. Harry and Hermione watched with growing horror as seat after seat was occupied, until it was clear that there wasn't any space anymore. People settled down on the steps or pressed against the wall, all trying to fit into the suddenly small-looking room.  
  
"Hermione," Harry gulped. "Please- please! tell me that they aren't going to watch the trial."  
  
Hermione, too, was staring in terror at the thousands of witches and wizards in front of them.  
  
"I hope so, Harry, I hope so," she whispered, looking panic-stricken, "But I'm afraid that's exactly what they're going to do."  
  
A fight broke out in the doorway. Apparently, yet more wizards tried to enter, but the people in the room wouldn't let them, afraid of being squashed.  
  
In the end, the ministry's hit wizards had to be called to break up the commotion. Harry shook his head in disbelief. These people seemed to think that this was a muggle rock-concert, not a trial.  
  
Suddenly, the clock above the door chimed nine times.  
  
It was nine o'clock in the morning.  
  
The Trial of the Century was about to begin.  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
A/N: Hello, everyone. I'm sorry about this cliffhanger, but the chapter was getting too big. Fanfiction.net wouldn't accept it anymore. The Trial is in the works, I am writing as fast as I can, it will be up by the next weekend at the latest. I hope you enjoyed this chapter,  
  
Thank you to all of you who reviewed the last chapter!  
  
See ya!  
  
Felinity ^_^ 


	11. Chapter Eleven: The Trial

_Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers  _

_Disclaimer:__ Anybody here who doesn't believe that Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling? No? Good. I would hate to send my readers to St. Mungo's….._

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_Chapter 11_ **The Trial**

_(Dedicated to Jordan, who has written one of the nicest reviews I have ever received, to shdurrani (Alex) who was my 500th reviewer, and last but not least to Old Fawkes, who has so faithfully stayed with me during the whole story and is waiting desperately for an update on Unicorn Child!!! ^_~ You guys rock!!!!!)_

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Only seconds after the clock had effectively silenced the whole court room, the doors flew open once more and eighteen wizards and witches stepped through. All of them, except one, were wearing rich, silver robes and cloaks. 

The other person, a man who had to be in his mid-forties, was wearing a purely golden robe with a blue cloak. Harry realized that he had to be the judge.

The seventeen silver-robed witches and wizards sat down on the jury's bench, and as soon as they were all seated, a table appeared in front of them. 

The judge sat down in the throne-like chair in the front of the room and shuffled the papers on his table. Immediately, writing appeared above his head, saying

"_Judge Veritus_".

Everyone was watching him in dead-silence.

After thirty tension-filled seconds, the man looked up, displaying smooth, black hair and rather handsome features.

He let his sharp, crystal blue eyes sweep over the court room once and nodded, seemingly to himself. 

"Good morning, Ladies and Gentlemen," he began in a smooth, clear voice, apparently unfazed by the great number of his listeners. "Welcome to the 15682nd case of this court, Sirius Black versus Peter Pettigrew."

He paused shortly, then tapped his wand against his table. A resounding bang echoed through the room, making most of its occupants flinch.

"Bring in the primary accused, Peter Pettigrew!" 

The doors opened and in stepped two Aurors. Between them was one very pale looking Peter Pettigrew. They steered him to the left benches and sat down, Pettigrew firmly sandwiched between the Aurors. Behind them, Nethan Nott and ten other people Harry didn't know entered the room, also sitting in the benches on the left side.

"Jury, please read the charges."

A man of the jury stood up, stepped around the table in front of him and stood next to the judge.

"Charges against Peter Pettigrew:

"Peter Pettigrew is accused of being a Deatheater.

"Peter Pettigrew is accused of betraying Lily and James Potter, who entrusted their lives to him by making him their Secret Keeper, to V-Voldemort, which led to their deaths on October 31st, 1981.

"Peter Pettigrew is accused of murdering twelve muggles on November 2nd, 1981.

"Peter Pettigrew is accused of framing an innocent man, namely Sirius Black, for his crimes, which led to Sirius Black's twelve year long imprisonment in the fortress of Azkaban. 

"Peter Pettigrew is accused of being an unregistered Animagus.

"Peter Pettigrew is accused of helping V-Voldemort," (the man stumbled over the feared name for the second time. Harry and Hermione had to stifle laughter as the whole courtroom- save for the people sitting on their own bank and the judge- flinched simultaneously.) "come back to life on June 24th, 1995, and of helping him since.

"Peter Pettigrew is accused of the attempted murder of one Harry James Potter on July 27th, 1995. 

"Peter Pettigrew is accused of the use of at least one of the Unforgivable Curses on one Harry James Potter on July 27th, 1995.

"That is all."

The wizard stepped back and resumed his seat, while a witch at the other side of the bench rose gracefully and stepped up to the judge.

"Charges against Sirius Orion Black:

"Sirius Orion Black is accused of being a Deatheater.

"Sirius Orion Black is accused of betraying Lily and James Potter, who entrusted their lives to him by making him their Secret Keeper, to V-Voldemort, which led to their deaths on October 31st, 1981.

"Sirius Orion Black was accused of murdering Peter Pettigrew. Due to the fact that Mr. Pettigrew is, obviously, alive, we are willing to drop this charge."

The people in the courtroom chuckled nervously.

"Sirius Orion Black is accused of murdering twelve muggles on November 2nd, 1981.

"Sirius Orion Black is accused of being an unregistered Animagus.

"Sirius Orion Black is accused of breaking into Gryffindor Tower at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on February 24th, 1994, with the intention of harming his godson, one Harry James Potter.

"Sirius Orion Black is accused of deliberately hurting a minor, more specifically one Ronald Arthur Weasley, on June 6th, 1994. 

"Sirius Orion Black is accused of stealing a potentially dangerous creature, namely a hippogriff, on June 6th, 1994.

"Sirius Orion Black is accused of helping V-Voldemort  (courtroom: flinch) come back to life on June 24th, 1995,  and of helping him since.

"This is all."

The woman stepped back and reclaimed her seat.

"May this court bring clarity on the issues this trial addresses," the judge said. "Merlin help us so that we can bring justice to the accused. Today is July 30th, 1995. It is exactly seven minutes past nine AM. Witnesses, accused, judge and jury are present. This court is now in session." 

Again, he tapped his wand against the table, making the whole courtroom flinch again.

"Mr. Pettigrew, as the primary accused, you shall be questioned first. Mr. Nott, if you would."

Pettigrew was dragged out of the bench by the two Aurors, while Nott stepped up beside him. 

"Administer the Veritaserum."

Snape stepped forward from the shadows with a vial of clear liquid in his hand. 

The Aurors held Pettigrew's head still while Snape forced his mouth open and poured three drops of Veritaserum down the Animagus' throat. Then, with a nod to the judge, he went back a chair in the back of the room Harry hadn't noticed before.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," the judge said. "Mr. Nott, you may now question your client."

Nott, a balding man in his late thirties, stepped forward.

"Thank you, your honour. Mr. Pettigrew. When you were still at school, were you friends with James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin? Describe your relationship."

The questioning went on like this for a while. Pettigrew described his relationship with the other Marauders as a wonderful, firm friendship, always mentioning his support of the light side. It made Harry feel sick. Nott, Harry had to admit, was doing this very well. In the end of the questioning, there probably wasn't a person in the audience who believed Sirius to be innocent, judging by the glares being sent his way. Grudgingly, Harry also admitted that Pettigrew was answering the questions skilfully, taking full advantage of the open-ended questions Nott was asking. It was the perfect performance. Harry was grateful when Nott finally said,

"Thank you, Mr. Pettigrew. Your honour, no further questions."

Then he turned to address the courtroom.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said with a (in Harry's opinion) sickeningly sweet smile, "I think we have all seen how wonderful Mr. Pettigrew's relationship to his friends was. I am sure that you will all agree with me that there is simply no way that Peter would have betrayed his close friends James and Lily Potter to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 

"We have all seen what a kind, caring person Peter is, how deeply wounded he still is by his friends' demise….. and accusing him of being in any way associated with He-Whose-Name-Must-Not-Be-Spoken, is simply ridiculous. 

"I believe firmly in my client's innocence and I intent to prove it today, to you, here, in this trial. Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen."

A raging applause rang through the courtroom, people were cheering for Nott and Pettigrew. Harry was feeling so sick that he thought he would throw up any minute. Hermione seemed to realise this and put a calming hand on to Harry's arm, even though she looked just as nauseated as Harry himself.

It took three loud bangs from judge Veritus's wand to quiet everyone down.

"May I remind the audience," he said sharply, "That this trial is not over. We have merely heard Mr. Nott's questioning of the primary accused. If the audience does not instantly calm down, I will have no choice but to evict this room!"

Instantly, the people were silent. The judge glared at them once more.

"Thank you. Now, Professor Dumbledore, you may question the accused."

Dumbledore rose and calmly stepped up next to Pettigrew.

"Thank you, your honour," he said smoothly.

"Mr. Pettigrew," the headmaster said, "Are you a Deatheater?"

The man in the chair quivered for a bit. But there was no way for him to avoid answering such a direct questioning, Harry realized with satisfaction.

"Yes," Pettigrew answered. 

Gasps rang out throughout the room. The judge quieted them with a glare that reminded Harry a lot of Professor Snape.

"Were you the Potters' Secret Keeper fourteen years ago?"

"Yes."

More gasps.

"Did you betray the Potters to Voldemort?"

"Yes. I did."

"What were your reasons for joining Lord Voldemort?"

Pettigrew's face twitched.

"I hated my friends. I was bitter, angry, jealous….." 

And Pettigrew proceeded to tell them about everything he had told Harry two days before.

In the end, the audience was so angry with Pettigrew that some of them tried to launch themselves at the man. They had to be restrained by the ministry's hit wizards. Harry noticed with satisfaction that even the jury was glaring at Pettigrew by now. He and Hermione shared a smile.

"Mr. Pettigrew, are you responsible for the death of the twelve muggles on November 2nd, 1981?"

"Yes," the man in the chair admitted tonelessly.

"Tell us what happened." Dumbledore said calmly.

"I ran away," Pettigrew said in a monotone. "After I realized that my Master was dead, dead at the hands of Harry Potter, I ran. I knew that Sirius would come after me once he realized the truth."                                                                                                                                                               

"The truth?"

"That I had betrayed Lily and James," Pettigrew clarified. "It was no use, however. Black tracked me down. He confronted me in a street full of muggles. He had his wand out. I had my wand behind my back. Black didn't know that. He was about to say something, but I was faster. I yelled for everyone to hear that he had betrayed Lily and James. He was too stunned to answer. I blew up the street with my wand behind my back. I cut off my finger so that everyone would think I had been ripped to pieces. I transformed into a rat. I ran away into the gutter."

"Thank you Mr. Pettigrew," Dumbledore said. "So you admit to being an unregistered Animagus?"

"Yes," said Pettigrew. "I am. We all were. James was a stag, Sirius is a dog, I am a rat."

This drew some chuckles and sneers from the audience.

"We did it for Remus," Pettigrew explained, "Because he is a werewolf. Werewolfs don't hurt animals. We wanted to be with him during his transformations."

Much to Harry's surprise, no one in the audience seemed to be in the least surprised that Remus was a werewolf. Harry realized that it must have been in the newspaper article that morning.

"And you admit that you framed Sirius, thus making him endure a twelve year long imprisonment in Azkaban?" 

"Yes," Pettigrew said tonelessly. "And I enjoyed it."

This time, it took about three minutes to calm the audience down. Harry noticed with amusement that the judge wasn't even threatening to evict the courtroom.

"Mr. Pettigrew," Dumbledore spoke up again when it was silent. "Did you help Voldemort come back on the evening of June 24th, five weeks ago?"

"Yes," Pettigrew said.

"Tell us what happened," said Dumbledore. 

And Pettigrew launched into an explanation of the happenings at the graveyard. He even explained who had turned the goblet into a portkey. 

After his statement, all hell broke loose. People were panicking or in hysterics, it took at least ten minutes to calm them down. Harry was glad for the time, it gave him a chance to get his emotions back under control. Hermione kept hugging him, telling him how sorry she was and how brave he was….. In the end, it took Harry's and Minerva's combined efforts to placate the distraught girl.

Dumbledore resumed his questioning shortly after.

"Tell me, Mr. Pettigrew, what happened three days ago after Harry spotted you in my office."

Pettigrew explained everything, about the chase and the escapade afterwards. Harry was delighted when Pettigrew not once mentioned that Harry was an Animagus, too. Harry wondered at that. Pettigrew could have easily got him into trouble by telling everyone. Maybe he would be able to keep that fact secret. 

The audience gasped and stared in awe at Harry when Pettigrew described how he had survived the killing curse- again. 

Harry was glad when that part of the questioning was over.

"Thank you, Mr. Pettigrew," Dumbledore said, a strange light glinting in his eyes. "No further questions, Your Honour."

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," the judge said with a smile. Harry got the distinct impression that he and Dumbledore were friends.  

"Why didn't Pettigrew tell everyone about the incident in your sixth year? When Sirius sent Snape after you in your werewolf form? That would get Sirius into trouble for sure!" whispered Harry to Remus. 

"He doesn't know," Remus replied just as quietly. "Only Dumbledore, Severus, myself, Sirius and James knew. We never told anyone, not even Peter."

"What about third year, though, in the Shrieking Shack?" whispered Harry. "He should have heard it then!"

Remus looked thoughtful for a minute.

"He should have," he agreed. "Maybe he was just too preoccupied with trying to find a way out of his predicament."

Harry nodded and turned his attention back to the proceedings.

"Take the accused back to his seat. Don't administer the antidote yet. The jury might want to question him later. Bring forth the secondary accused, Sirius Black."

The two Aurors led Pettigrew back to his seat as Nott sat down. Sirius stood up and walked to the seat on the right side. Harry noticed that even though he was pale, he looked determined.

"Administer the Veritaserum."

Snape came forward again with another vial full of clear liquid. Sirius eyed it warily for a second, then opened his mouth. Snape poured three drops into it and then stepped back.

"Professor Dumbledore, you may now question the accused."

Professor Dumbledore stepped up next to Sirius' chair.

"Mr. Black, are you a Deatheater?"

"No," Sirius answered in a monotone.

Quiet whispers broke out in the audience, more glares were being sent Pettigrew's way.

"Were you Lily and James Potter's secret keeper?"

"No. I was originally supposed to be, but I thought that it was too obvious. A week before the charm was initiated, I convinced Lily and James to switch secret keepers. Pettigrew was to be their secret keeper, while I would act as the target. We told nobody about the change in our plans. It was the biggest mistake of my life."

"Tell us what happened on the evening of October 31st, 1981, and in the following days."

Sirius shuddered slightly before answering. Hermione's grip on Harry's arm had tightened almost painfully.

"I was at home," Sirius' monotone voice started. "It was exactly one week after the Fidelius Charm had been initiated. I had a bad feeling somewhere. A feeling that something had gone wrong, that I had missed something…..

  
"I decided to check up on Peter. I thought that maybe the Death Eaters had captured him….. I took my flying motorbike and flew to Peter's flat. It took me about twenty minutes. When I got there, nobody answered the door. I was frantic. I broke down the door by force. Peter was not inside. The flat was empty. I could tell that nobody had lived in there for a while.

"I panicked. At this moment, I realized the truth. Peter had betrayed us. He had never returned home after the Fidelius Charm was performed. He was the Deatheater. He was the spy in the Order of the Phoenix. He was going to sell Lily and James and little Harry to Voldemort."

The courtroom flinched.

"I jumped on to my bike and flew to Godric's Hollow. I had never flown so fast in my life before. It was raining and I almost crashed a few times, but I didn't care. I had to get to my friends, had to make sure that they were alright, had to warn them…..

"But I failed. I failed James, Lily and Harry. When I got to Godric's Hollow, the house was a smouldering ruin. I ran inside. I found James in the entrance hall. He was dead, probably by Avada Kedavra. I went on, almost in a trance. Lily was in the nursery, in front of Harry's bed. She was dead as well.

"I broke down. I didn't move for a while, until I heard a noise from the other side of the room. It was Harry. Harry was alive. He had this huge, bleeding gash on his forehead and he was covered in dust and dirt, but he was alive. 

"I wanted to take him with me, but Hagrid hindered me. He said that he was on orders from Dumbledore to take Harry to his relatives, the Dursleys. I pleaded with him to give Harry to me. I wanted to take care of him, he was my godson, I had promised Lily and James….. 

"But Hagrid refused. I gave up. I was in no condition to fight. I realized then and there what a big mistake it had been to tell nobody about our switch of secret keepers. I realized that by the next day, everyone would think that I had betrayed the Potters to Voldemort. I realized that I had to flee, unless I wanted to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban for a crime I didn't commit. 

"I gave Hagrid my bike. I wouldn't need it anymore, it was too conspicuous. I walked until I had passed the apparation wards and apparated away to my house. The place was already swarming with Aurors. I could not get in.

"It was then that the unfairness of the situation hit me. They suspected me when the real traitor was Pettigrew. I was angry, angrier than I had ever been before. I realized that I had to find Peter quickly. I had to track him down and kill him, or maybe give him to the ministry for questioning first. 

"I had to avenge Lily and James' deaths. So I left my house and looked for Peter. I used my Animagus form most of the time, in hopes that I would be able to smell him. It was difficult. Aurors were looking for me everywhere, there were more than a few close calls.

"After two days, I finally managed to track Peter down and cornered him in a street full of muggles.  I did it because I thought that he wouldn't do anything there, I was wrong.

  
"Before I could do anything but point my wand at him, he screamed for the whole street to hear how I had betrayed Lily and James. He must have had his wand behind his back, but in my shock and anger I didn't notice. Pettigrew blew up half the street. He grinned at me, pulled out a knife, cut off his finger and transformed into a rat. I couldn't see him after that.

"I just stood there, with my wand still raised, pointing it at a street full with dead or screaming muggles…..

"And I suddenly realized what this must look like to everyone else. They would think I had killed those muggles. Everyone in the street would be able to confirm that I had betrayed Lily and James. My world was collapsing around me. Lily and James, dead. Little Harry, with his horrible muggle relatives. Peter, a traitor. Remus, thinking that I was the traitor….. 

"I didn't know what to do. I realized that I would be thrown into Azkaban. Nobody would believe in my innocence. Little, stupid Peter Pettigrew had out-smarted the whole wizarding world. 

"And so I laughed. I laughed because the only other option I had would have been to cry, and I wasn't sure if I could stop once I started. Shortly after that, Fudge and his Aurors arrived. They took me to Azkaban without a trial."

By that time, there were hardly any dry eyes in the courtroom. Harry caught Hermione discreetly wiping her eyes, and even his strict godmother was blowing her nose.

Sirius on the other hand was just sitting on the chair, eyes unfocused under the influence of Veritaserum.

"Mr. Black, how and why did you escape Azkaban?" 

Sirius launched into the explanation he had given Harry, Ron and Hermione a year before. Harry noticed that he used almost the same wording. Maybe Sirius had planned his speech in the shrieking shack out beforehand? Maybe he had realized that he wouldn't have much time.

Of course, by the time Sirius was finished, there was nobody in the room who believed in Pettigrew's innocence. Harry noticed Nott shifting nervously and smirked.

"Mr. Black, why did you break into Gryffindor Tower on February 24th, 1994?" 

"I was going to catch the rat to protect my godson Harry. I took a knife with me so I would have a way to defend myself. I had the passwords of the whole week. A cat from the castle I knew had stolen them from a Gryffindor boy for me. The portrait, some strange knight called Sir Cadogan, let me through. I entered the common room. Everyone was asleep. I quickly found my way upstairs into the third year boy's dormitory. 

"I transformed into Padfoot. I could smell the rat. I de-transformed and walked up to the bed. I knew the rat was sleeping there. Suddenly, all the rage came back and I slashed the bed hangings. Unfortunately, the boy sleeping there- Ron Weasley- woke up and saw me. He stared at me for a second, then he yelled.

"I knew that I had to go. The professors would be there in a short while. I transformed into my Animagus form and ran down the stairs. I opened a secret passage to get out of the common room and out of the castle. I had failed."

"Padfoot is your Animagus form?" Dumbledore questioned to clear things up for the jury.

A smile actually crossed Sirius' face.

"Yes," he said. "I am a dog, Padfoot. Remus is a wolf, Moony. James was a stag, Prongs. And Pettigrew is a rat. _Wormtail_." Sirius managed to make the name sound like an insult- which it actually was, come to think of it.

"Mr. Black, please tell us what happened on June 6th, 1994."

Sirius told them about the night in the shrieking shack. 

He left out nothing, even told that he had accidentally broken Ron's leg. Even though his voice was monotone due to the potion, it was clear to everyone that Sirius was terribly sorry for that. Harry had to hide a grin as he saw most of the witches in the jury smiling sweetly and adoringly at his godfather. Harry had never really thought about it, but realized that Sirius was very handsome.

(A/N: Don't worry! No slash! Sirius is practically Harry's father in this story!)

Harry poked Hermione and pointed discreetly at the jury. Hermione muffled her giggles with the sleeve of her robe.

"…..and suddenly, Harry and Hermione appeared in front of the window riding a flying hippogriff. The managed to get the window open and told me to climb on to the hippogriff's back with them. We flew up to the north tower where Harry and Hermione went back into the castle, and then I flew off."

Harry saw the jury mumbling to each other and throwing calculating looks Harry's way. They were undoubtedly wondering where he and Hermione had got the hippogriff. Harry squirmed in his seat. He was not looking forward to his questioning.

"Mr. Black. Were you in any way involved in Voldemort's resurrection five weeks ago?"

"No."

"Thank you Mr. Black. Your Honour, no further questions."

The judge nodded and turned towards Nott.

"Mr. Nott, you may now question the secondary accused."

Nott stood up and strode towards Sirius' chair. There was a strange gleam in his eyes that told Harry that he had a card up his sleeve.

"Mr. Black," he said mockingly, "It has come to my attention that you attempted to break into Gryffindor Tower before February 24th, 1994, more precisely on Halloween the year before, destroying a valuable portrait in the process. Is this true?"

"Yes," Sirius answered, sounding very slightly reluctant. "The Fat Lady that is guarding the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. I tried to explain everything to her….. that it was an emergency. I had deliberately chosen a time where I knew that no students would be in the tower. They were still at the feast. The Fat Lady wouldn't let me through, and after a while I just lost it and started to slash up the portrait."

Indignant whispers broke out in the audience, people were beginning to doubt Sirius again. Harry bit his lip so hard that it started to bleed.

"That is hardly the behaviour or an innocent man, Mr. Black."

"It is the behaviour of a man who knew that his godson was in immediate danger from the man who had also killed his parents."

"Mr. Pettigrew spent years in Mr. Potter's company. He could have harmed the boy at any time, yet he didn't. What made you think that he would want to at that very moment?"

"Nothing in particular," Sirius admitted. "But I knew that the longer I waited, the more probable it was that Peter would act. There was already heightened dark activity in Europe, even though the ministry was trying to hush it up. People disappearing and reappearing weeks later with no idea where they had been. I knew that Voldemort was slowly returning. I knew that he was finally regaining his strength. If Peter realized that as well, he would not hesitate to hurt Harry so that he could regain his master's trust. 

"Peter never did anything without seeing what was in it for himself. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment, and as soon as there were any reports of dark activity in Britain he would strike- to give Voldemort what he desires most, the last of the Potter line."

Nott was clearly trying to regain his wits.

"N-nonetheless, the fact remains that you damaged a valuable portrait."

Harry smirked again. Nott was grasping at straws.

"Yes," said Sirius simply, "And I am sorry about that. But I was rather desperate. I knew that this would probably be my last chance to enter the castle in a while, and I had to act quickly." 

"Yes." Nott said, sounding helpless. "I'm sure. Eh-"

He shuffled the papers in his hand for a while, skimming over them frantically. Harry and Hermione were grinning broadly and Harry saw that the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes had magnified. The man's beard was twitching suspiciously. 

"Ah, yes," Nott said after a few seconds, sounding relieved. "The hippogriff. We know now that you stole it-"

"Objection," Dumbledore said suddenly, "The circumstances regarding Buckbeak the hippogriff have not yet been cleared. Mr. Nott is insinuating that my client stole the hippogriff, when Mr. Black has said nothing of the sort."

"Sustained," the judge said, regarding Nott coolly. "Mr. Nott, please stick to the facts."

"Forgive me, Your Honour," Nott said through clenched teeth. "Mr. Black, how exactly did the hippogriff come into your possession?"

Sirius almost smiled under the Veritaserum.

"I don't know how exactly," he said in a monotone, "As I said, Harry and Hermione showed up in front of my window with Buckbeak. I had nothing to do with that. I suggest that you ask Harry later."

Nott looked sour and confused. Harry realized that Dumbledore's intervening had brought him out of his concept. 

"Very well, Mr. Black," he snapped, "But you do admit that you are an unregistered Animagus."

"Yes," said Sirius.

Nott waited for a few seconds, then said with exaggerated patience, "Would you please explain why, when and how you committed such a serious crime?"

"Certainly," Sirius said. Harry grinned when he realized that this was driving Nott mad. "We did it for Remus. James and I could not help noticing that Remus disappeared regularly once a month. In our first year, we believed his excuses that his mother was sick….. but in second year, we were getting suspicious. 

"We followed Remus one night when he was being led onto the grounds by Madam Pomfrey. We slipped into the tunnel of the Whomping Willow after she had left and caught a glimpse of Remus transforming at the end of the corridor. 

"Luckily, we were wearing James' invisibility cloak and got away unharmed. We confronted Remus about this the next day. He had been terrified of letting us know the truth because he feared that we might abandon him. 

"Of course, we did not. We helped Remus cover for his absences over the years. Then, shortly before Christmas break in second year, Professor McGonagall taught us about Animagi. James thought he remembered reading somewhere that Werewolfs did not harm other animals.

"We did extensive research in the library without telling Remus and found that werewolfs did indeed not harm animals. It was then that we decided to become Animagi. We let Peter in on the plan but did not tell Remus about it. We didn't want him to be disappointed if it didn't work, and he wouldn't have let us break so many rules anyway.

"It was difficult hiding something of that magnitude from one of our best friends, but we managed, Remus didn't suspect a thing. It took us three years to become Animagi, but in our fifth year we finally managed. It was brilliant."

"If you say so," Nott said sourly. he had not missed the witches in the audience gushing about Sirius' loyalty and kind-heartedness**_. _**

"Mr. Black. Do you admit to hurting a minor, Ronald Weasley, on June 6th, 1994?"

"Yes," Sirius said. "I already admitted to that. I also stated how very sorry I am about this particular incident. It was an _accident_." 

"Yes," Nott said sourly. "But you still admit that-"

"Objection," Dumbledore intervened coolly, "This issue has already been addressed sufficiently in my questioning of Mr. Black. He has stated clearly that, while this unfortunate accident did indeed occur, he is very sorry about it. Mr. Nott is harassing my client and wasting this fine court's time."

"Sustained," the judge said, giving Nott another of his cold glances. "Mr. Nott, please refrain from repeating and lingering on this particular charge."

"Very well, _Your Honour_," Nott hissed, teeth gritted and hands balled to fists. "No further questions."

"Very well," the judge said as well, his features stony. Harry could have sworn that his eyes twinkled in amusement for a second.

"Mr. Black, you may return to your seat. Don't administer the antidote yet. The jury might want to question you later."

Sirius nodded and returned to his seat next to Harry. Harry smiled at him, and Sirius smiled back, though it seemed slightly distant to Harry. He was obviously still under the potion's influence.

"Mr. Nott," the judge interrupted Harry's musings, "You may now call your first witness."

One of the people Harry didn't know stepped forward. Apparently, her name was Celestina Thornton, and she had been in his parents' year at school. Celestina did not take any truth potion. Her questioning was much like Pettigrew's, describing the marauders' friendship as a wonderful one, and occasionally badmouthing Sirius. Apparently, Celestina had been in Slytherin and had been subject to many of Sirius' more malicious, yet harmless, pranks. 

Harry was again roused from his thoughts when Nott proclaimed that he had no further questions. Dumbledore was then allowed to question the witness- which he did, and masterfully. He managed to trap the woman in her own statements and make her contradict herself several times in confusion so many times that after he was done, nobody believed in her statement anymore. 

Nott was fuming.

Harry _almost_ felt pity for him.

Almost.

"Professor Dumbledore," the judge said, "You may now call your first witness."

Dumbledore nodded to Remus with a friendly smile. Remus looked calm and composed, but in his eyes Harry could see the nervousness. He bit his lip when he realized that he would be questioned right after Nott's next witness. 

Remus sat down in the chair. 

"You may now question the witness, Professor Dumbledore-"

"Objection!" Nott cried.

Gasps were heard all around the court room. Someone interrupting the judge was unheard of.

"Yes, Mr. Nott?" Judge Veritus inquired frostily.

"Mr. Lupin here is a werewolf! A dark creature! We can't trust his statement unless he takes Veritaserum!"

The judge merely raised an eyebrow coolly.

"Mr. Nott," he said slowly, as if talking to a very, _very _stupid small child. "I am well aware of Mr. Lupin's lycanthropy, as is everyone else in this room, as the issue has been addressed quite a few times in this trial. I am sure that you, Mr. Nott, after seven years of Hogwarts school training, must know that silver, which is an important part of the Veritaserum, is deadly to werewolves?" 

Nott squirmed in his seat as the audience howled with laughter.

"Nonetheless," he said quickly, "Unless Mr. Lupin takes some kind of truth serum, we, the defence, won't accept his statement."

Harry was shaking with silent fury. Remus on the other hand, still sitting in the chair, was looking calm and composed.

"Your Honour," Remus said, "Might I suggest a simple truth spell? It is as binding as Veritaserum to _dark creatures_ such as myself-" a small amount of sarcasm entered Remus' voice- "as I am sure Mr. Nott is aware of."

The judge studied Remus for a few seconds, then nodded his head.

"Very well," he said, "Is there anyone in this court room authorised by the ministry of magic to cast truth spells on witnesses in a trial?"

A man on the right hand side of the room stood up. 

"I am," he said firmly- though his voice was strangely wheezy-, stepping down from his seat and up to the judge's table. "My name is Elphias Doge and I work for the International Magical Office of Law."

Judge Veritus performed a simple authorisation spell on Doge, whose name Harry recognised as one of the Order Council members he had not yet met.

"Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Doge," the judge said. "Please cast the spell on Mr. Lupin over there so that we can finally start the questioning. I _never_ want to hear this issue addressed again."

Elphias Doge stepped over to Remus, and, giving the man a smile, cast the spell. Immediately, Remus's eyes glazed over. Elphias pocketed his wand and went back to his seat calmly. 

"You may now question Mr. Lupin, Professor Dumbledore." 

Personally, Harry thought that the judge sounded like he was getting a headache. This suspicion was only strengthened  when Veritus reached for a glass of water on his table and took a long sip.

Meanwhile, the headmaster had stepped forward. 

"Mr. Lupin," Dumbledore said formally, "All of us here, in this courtroom, know that you are a werewolf. How has this development affected your life? Please tell us everything, including what happened on Halloween, 1981, up to now."

Remus told everybody about how he had been bitten and the complications afterwards. How nobody had been sure if he would live. How his frantic parents had travelled all over the world with him, trying desperately to find a cure. How they had given up when he was eight, realizing that there really was no cure. 

How the other children in his village had shunned Remus when they found out about his abnormality. How he and his parents had had to move around almost constantly. 

How his parents had payed famous potions masters to look for a cure for lycanthropy, or at least something to ease Remus's transformations. 

How they had written to Hogwarts's headmaster Dippet and asked for permission for Remus to attend the school when no Hogwarts letter had arrived for him, and how they had been thwarted. How crushed Remus had been when he had found out that he would never be allowed to learn magic. There was even a law against it.

How his parents had taken this issue to court and fought for their son's rights. How the ministry had refused to give in and grant Remus, and all other werewolfs,  permission to study magic. How Dumbledore had become headmaster of Hogwarts and had finally allowed Remus to come to Hogwarts, even though he was already twelve. 

How happy Remus had been when he had finally found friends at Hogwarts- James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. How scared he had been that they would push him away as soon as they discovered his secret. How he had had to lie to them every month, and how he had hated it.

How his friends had become Animagi for him, Remus Lupin, and how happy he had been. How he had felt when he had found out what they had done for him. How they had explored the Hogwarts grounds every full moon, their adventures in the forbidden forest. How they had cast a brotherly bonding spell in their sixth year as a sign of their friendship to one another. 

How sad he had been to finish Hogwarts, and how wonderfully everything had worked out for him at the beginning. How he had managed to become an Auror in spite of being a werewolf….. 

There wasn't a dry eye in the court room after Remus had finished his tale.   

"I never thought that this friendship, this wonderful bond we had, would ever be broken," Remus concluded his tale sadly. "I thought we would be together forever, me, James and Lily, Sirius, Peter, and of course little Harry. Together, we could face everything. Nothing was too big or dangerous for us, because we were friends. When my parents died, my friends helped me. 

"And then, more than a year after Harry had been born, the terrible news hit us that Voldemort was after James, Lily and Harry. We realized that, as terrible as it was, one of the three of us, Peter, Sirius and me, was the traitor. 

"Everything went downhill from there. Suspicion destroyed our friendship. We didn't trust each other anymore, not really. Sirius suspected me of being the traitor because I was a werewolf, and everyone knew that Voldemort had extended the hand of friendship to them. Of course, I had declined Voldemort's offer.

"I, on the other hand, am sorry to say that I suspected Sirius. The sole reason for that was that I never thought that poor, snivelling little Peter would ever do something as terrible as joining the dark lord. I thought that it had to be a powerful wizard, and Sirius was a powerful wizard. 

"Sirius managed to convince James that I had to be the traitor, and they decided to let Sirius be their secret keeper. I never knew about the change of plans until that night in the Shrieking Shack a year ago.

"Lily, bless her, was the only one who suspected Peter. She owled me mere minutes  before- before they died with a letter for Harry. I still have it, and I am to give it to him on his fifteenth birthday, which happens to be tomorrow. She wrote in her letter to me that she had a bad feeling that something was going to happen to them, something terrible. She wrote that she thought they were going to die, but had a feeling that Harry would survive.

"I panicked after reading her letter and immediately left my house. I ran to the nearest Floo Powder Station- there were Anti-Apparation wards in the area where I lived- and Flooed to Sirius's house. I searched the whole manor, losing precious time in the process, but Sirius was not home. I must have arrived mere minutes after he left. 

"Panicking even more, I Flooed over to Peter's flat and searched it frantically. Someone had been there shortly before me, I could tell, but the flat was deserted. I tried to Floo over to Godric's Hollow, but I couldn't. I had forgotten about the wards. I was knocked out for several minutes after that, then I ran to pass the apparation wards around Peter's flat and apparated to Lily and James' house. It's a miracle that I didn't splinch myself, given the state I was in.

"When I arrived, the ruin was swarming with Aurors and Obliviators who were trying to keep the muggles away. Godric's Hollow, my best friends' house, was in shambles. I arrived just in time to see someone cover up Lily and James's bodies and carry them away. It was the last time I ever saw them. I was heartbroken after that and in a daze. 

"Professor Dumbledore found me there, staring at the remnants of the place I had loved so much, long after the reporters, Aurors and Obliviators had left. He took me to Hogwarts with him. He told me about Harry, how Harry had survived. I wasn't allowed to take him in because of my lycanthropy. A few days later, I also found out about Peter's and Sirius's fate. 

"Professor Dumbledore offered me the post of Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, but I declined. I couldn't face those happy people, couldn't face the students….. was afraid that I might hurt them.

"My life was destroyed. I quit my job as an Auror and left the magical world for a few months. I travelled around the world, using the money my parents had left me and the money I had received as an Auror. It helped me come to terms with what had happened. Two of my closest friends were dead, their son living with hateful muggles. One of my remaining two friends was dead as well, killed by the other, who was now worse than dead in Azkaban.

"After I had returned to the wizarding world, I kept moving around. I sold my house because it reminded me too much of Lily and James. I took jobs here and there, never staying in one place for more than half a year, afraid that someone would figure my secret out. Until last year, of course. Professor Dumbledore offered me the post of Defence against the Dark Arts teacher again, and after a fair amount of persuasion on his part, I took him up on the offer. I enjoyed teaching immensely, though I was terrified of hurting the children. I took precautions; Severus Snape brewed me the Wolfsbane Potion every month, which is a rather new development and allows me to keep my human mind during my transformations.

"My position at Hogwarts also gave me the chance to meet Harry, my best friends' son. I cannot describe what it was like, seeing him after so many years….."

Harry blushed and looked down as most of the people in the audience glanced at him.

"In the end of the year, the truth about me….. my lycanthropy….. er, got out, and I decided to leave Hogwarts. I could not bear the thought that these children I had taught for a whole year would now be disgusted by me….. or even scared."

"Thank you, Mr. Lupin," Dumbledore said, after it became clear that Remus wasn't saying anything else. "Please tell us about the night when you found out about Sirius's innocence."

Remus nodded slightly.

"I was in my office," he said. "I had just finished marking the last exams. It was the evening of the hippogriff Buckbeak's execution, and I had a feeling that Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger might want to go down to Hagrid's hut to visit their friend and comfort him- even though it was strictly forbidden to leave the castle at that time of the night."

The audience chuckled a bit, and Harry and Hermione blushed.

"It turned out that I was right. I used the Marauder's Map, a perfect map of Hogwarts that even shows everyone who is on the grounds and in the castle- Sirius, James, Peter and I made it when we were still at school."

Remus waited for the whispers to die down.

"The three of them left the castle and went down to Hagrid's hut. They stayed for a few minutes, then I noticed more people moving towards the hut: Macnair, Fudge and Dumbledore. Harry, Hermione and Ron left through the back door. But suddenly, they had another person with them. A person that rightfully should have been dead for twelve years- Peter Pettigrew. 

"At first I thought that something was wrong with the map- but then, just as Harry, Ron and Hermione were coming closer to the Whomping Willow, Pettigrew escaped and was soon chased by not only the three children and Hermione's cat Crookshanks, but also by Sirius Black. I saw Ron Weasley catch up with Pettigrew, then both of them were pulled into the secret passage of the Whomping Willow by Black. 

"I didn't stay in my office any longer, I ran towards the willow as quickly as I could. When I finally arrived at the Shrieking Shack, I heard Hermione yell for help from upstairs. I found Sirius lying on the floor and bleeding slightly, Harry standing over him with his wand, Ron lying on the bed looking pale and clutching his leg while trying desperately to hold on to his rat Scabbers, and Hermione off to the side panting heavily. 

"I realized quickly that unless I disarmed Harry, Sirius would be hurt or dead in a matter of seconds- so I disarmed all of them."

Remus proceeded to tell everything about that night- when he had realized that Sirius had been innocent all along, their explanation to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

And then what had happened after that, how he had transformed, Sirius had had to hold him off, and how Peter had escaped again….. not that Remus, as a werewolf, had payed much attention to the little rat.

"Thank you, Mr. Lupin," Dumbledore said, "Your Honour, no further questions."

The judge nodded.

"Mr. Nott, you may now question the witness."

Nott stepped forward pompously.

"Mr. Lupin," he sneered, "Have you ever hurt or killed anyone as a werewolf?"

Remus raised an eyebrow even under the truth spell.

"I hardly think that this is part of this trial, Mr. Nott," he said coolly, "But no. I haven't."

Harry noticed that Nott looked somewhat disappointed.

"What's he playing at?" Harry whispered to Hermione. "Is he only trying to dig up dirt on all of us?"

Hermione was frowning as well. 

"I don't know, Harry," she said, looking as though that confession irked her greatly- which it probably did. "I'm not quite sure why Nott is defending Pettigrew at all. I mean, everyone knew that the truth would come out since Veritaserum would be administered- Nott is only embarrassing himself in front of the whole wizarding world here."

Harry frowned.

"He's a Deatheater, though," he said. "Nott, I mean. D'you think Voldemort told him to defend Pettigrew?" 

"Why, though?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "Maybe to make sure that Pettigrew didn't say too much? Or maybe Voldemort really wants Nott to dig up dirt on us. Maybe he's trying to destroy our plausibility? So that nobody believes in his return anymore?" 

"His return has been officially acknowledged, though," said Hermione. "But yes, maybe he wants to inflict damage on us."

They turned their attention back to the trial. 

"You said that you suspected Mr. Black of being the secret keeper," Nott was saying. From the deep frown on his face, Harry could tell that the questioning was not going well for him.

"Why would you have suspected Black if there wasn't any sign that he might have joined the dark side?"

Harry thought that Remus looked a little annoyed, even though he was still under the truth spell.

"I have told you before, Mr. Nott," he said, "I didn't think Peter capable of such a crime, purely because he was- _is_- such a weak wizard. Snivelling, little, innocent Peter Pettigrew, always looking for friends bigger than him to help him. I never thought he would be….. in the right mindset for joining Voldemort."

"But Mr. Black was?" Nott asked, sounding triumphant.

"No," Remus said quickly. "That's not what I said. Don't twist my words, Mr. Nott. I simply thought that Peter was too- well- dull, to change his mind and his loyalties. Going from one side to the other requires some deep thinking, I imagine. You need to question everything, searching for answers in depth, and when you come up with the answers you are looking for, you can change sides. I never thought Peter had enough brain to make such a big decision on his own- without any help from James, Sirius or myself.

"Sirius, on the other hand, was raised to be a dark wizard by his family and has always been smart- more than smart, really, he was probably one of the most brilliant students to ever visit Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I thought that he, on the contrary to Pettigrew, was smart enough to think things through. And maybe he would even come to the conclusion that he wanted to change sides. He would also have been smart enough to hide this from us- something I didn't think little Peter would be able to do. This is the only reason I ever suspected Sirius. That, and the fact that he suspected me in return. Sirius has never given me a reason to doubt his loyalties."

Nott sneered.

"I'm sure there must have been some doubts, Mr. Lupin. One doesn't suspect their best friend so quickly."

"There were no reasons other than the ones I have already told you."

"But surely-" 

"Objection," Dumbledore cut in coolly. "Mr. Nott is harassing my witness _again_. Mr. Lupin has stated the answer to his question clearly, and I see no reason to waste this fine court's time on this issue any longer."

"Sustained," the judge said, and Harry thought that, for just a second, sadistic glee shone in the judge's eyes. "Mr. Nott, please drop this line of questioning."

"_Very well_," Nott hissed though gritted teeth. "Your _Honour_, no further questions."

"Very well. You may now question your second witness, Nott."

Harry and Hermione grinned when they realized that the judge had left out the more respectful address 'Mr.'. Nott was really making a fool of himself. 

Nott's second witness wasn't any better than his first one. He tried to make the jury believe that he had once seen the dark mark on Sirius's arm in their sixth year- in the end, it turned out that the person he had seen had been Severus Snape who had just then returned from one of his spying missions for Dumbledore. 

The witness returned to his seat thoroughly humiliated and Nott received a strong warning from Judge Veritus about bringing untrustworthy witnesses to a trial.

"Professor Dumbledore," the judge said, "You may now question your next witness."

Harry jumped when he realized that the next witness was he himself.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore called, smiling at Harry. "Please come down here."

Harry bit his lip as the witches and wizards in the audience all turned to stare at him, craning their heads to get a good look at Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. Hermione squeezed his arm reassuringly. Harry left his seat and went down to his headmaster, his knees feeling wobbly and shaky. Dumbledore gave Harry a calming smile, but somehow, it didn't help much. Harry gulped as he sat down in the chair.

_'Alright'_, he told himself_. 'This won't be so difficult. All I have to do is tell the whole truth. Just the truth. Nothing big there.'_

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began. "Are you aware that Sirius Black is your godfather?"

"Yes," Harry said simply. _'No problems so far. Relax, Harry.'_

"And do you believe in your godfather's innocence?"

"Yes," Harry said again, pleased that his voice sounded firm. 

"How did you find out about Mr. Black's innocence?"

"That night in the Shrieking Shack," Harry said. He tried to block out all the people around him, focusing solely on Dumbledore. "It was the last day of exams and the day of Buckbeak's execution. We-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," the judge said suddenly, "But the issue of the hippogriff Buckbeak's execution has been addressed quite a few times during this trial. Would you mind giving us the full story behind it, Mr. Potter?"

"No, not at all," Harry said quickly, thinking that maybe he could help Buckbeak this way. "I was there. It happened in our first Care of Magical Creatures lesson that year. Hagrid, who was our new teacher, had prepared our lesson on hippogriffs thoroughly, there were about fifteen of them. Before he let us into the paddock where they were held, he explained how we had to act around them. He specifically said not to insult them, and to always remain polite.

"One of our class, however, Draco Malfoy, apparently hadn't been listening. Everything went fine at first, I got along well with Buckbeak and he even let me ride on his back. Then, _Malfoy_ snatched Buckbeak and insulted him- he called him a '_great, ugly brute'_. Buckbeak got angry and snapped at Malfoy's arm. It was only a warning, we all could see that, but Malfoy's arm was bleeding quite a bit. Anyway, Malfoy wrote to his father and complained, and in the following trial, Buckbeak was sentenced to death."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," the judge said. "Please continue your questioning, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore smiled at Harry.

"Please continue, Harry."

Harry nodded, trying to remember what he had last said.

"Uh, as I said, it was the day of Buckbeak's execution. We knew that we weren't allowed to leave the castle, but we really didn't care at the time. Hagrid is our friend, and we weren't just going to abandon him when he needed us."

Harry heard some of the witches in the audience sigh dreamily. He had to suppress a shudder.

"We went down there in my invisibility cloak and tried to comfort Hagrid as well as we could. He accidentally broke a milk jug, and Hermione went over to the cupboard to look for another….. and in it, she found Ron's rat, Scabbers, who later turned out to be Peter Pettigrew. Scabbers had vanished a few months before, we all thought that he had been eaten by Hermione's cat, but- he wasn't. Scabbers was acting oddly, though- he was struggling and scratching Ron and generally fighting to get away from us.

"Then, we heard the executioner approaching and quickly left through the back door under the invisibility cloak. We went as quickly and quietly as possible, but we were slowed down greatly by Scabbers who was still fighting with all his might. So when we heard the thump of an axe and Hagrid's voice, we all thought that Buckbeak was- that he had been- executed–"

Harry gulped, feeling nauseated at the memory.

"We were so shocked and frozen that Scabbers managed to get away. We all chased after him, and Ron finally got him- but then, Sirius, in his Animagus form, jumped out of the shadows and pulled Ron down into the tunnel below the Whomping willow. Ron's leg caught on a tree root on their way down, this is how he broke it.

"Hermione and I tried to get to Ron and the big dog, but the Whomping willow attacked us. It wasn't until a few minutes later that Crookshanks, that's Hermione's cat, darted forward and placed his paw on to a small knob on one of the willow's tree roots. The tree froze suddenly and we got into the secret passage and eventually managed to find Ron in the Shrieking Shack."

The rest of the story was explained quickly, Harry skipped most of it saying that it had been told before, and the jury seemed to accept that.

"What happened after you left the Whomping Willow, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry frowned in remembrance.

"We had just left the passageway when unfortunately the clouds moved away from the moon and Remus, that is Professor Lupin, started to transform. He hadn't taken his potion that night because he had been looking out for us. Sirius transformed into his Animagus form and wrestled with Professor Lupin. He eventually managed to chase him towards the forest. Unfortunately, Pettigrew used the time he had and managed to knock out Ron and Crookshanks who were in his way. He then transformed into a rat and ran away to the forest. Sirius came back eventually and immediately took off after Pettigrew.

"But then, we suddenly heard screams from the forest- Sirius's screams. And since it was suddenly very cold, we knew that the dementors had arrived and found Sirius. Hermione and I ran as quickly as we could, trying to get to Sirius. There must have been a hundred dementors on that clearing with him."

Harry paused for a few seconds, trying to shove the awful memories away. The audience was listening with bated breath.

"Professor Lupin had taught me how to cast the Patronus Charm that year," Harry continued quietly, ignoring the gasps that followed his statement. "Because the dementors affected me so strongly. I tried to cast the charm on the dementors, but there were so many….. I tried to get Hermione to help me, but she wasn't used to the charm and passed out. As did I, eventually, but before I did, I saw a figure on the other side of the lake cast the Patronus Charm- its Patronus chased away all the dementors, but then I lost consciousness. The figure looked an awful lot like- myself."

_Well, no need to tell them everything._

Harry bit his lip, realizing that they were now getting to the part that could earn him and Hermione a lifetime in Azkaban. Involuntarily, he glanced over at his best friend. Hermione gave him a nervous smile, but nodded. Harry drew a deep breath and steeled himself.

"Before I get to the next part of the story, you should all know that Hermione was in possession of a Time-Turner that year. She was allowed to use it because she had taken so many electives that they didn't fit in into a normal student's schedule. She would go to one class, go back in time one hour, and go to another class.

"Alright, when I woke up I was in the hospital wing- as were Hermione and Ron. Ron was still out, though. Fudge came in a few minutes later, and from his- er- conversation with Professor Snape we gathered that Sirius was to be given the dementor's kiss at any time then. We panicked and tried to tell Fudge that Sirius was innocent, but he wasn't listening. Professor Dumbledore here believed us, but he couldn't help Sirius himself."

Harry paused again, deciding to leave out the fact that Dumbledore had told them to go back in time. Something told him that even though he and Hermione might get away with it, Dumbledore might not. The twinkle in the headmaster's eyes told Harry that he had made the right decision.

"Hermione and I broke one of the wizarding world's most important laws that night to save an innocent man. We went back in time three hours."

Gasps rang throughout the court room again, people were muttering to each other. The judge silenced them with a bang of his wand.

"Please continue, Mr. Potter."

"We changed everything. Or rather, we changed nothing, because it had already been changed before….. only we hadn't been aware of it. We went down to Hagrid's hut and freed the hippogriff Buckbeak after the executioner had arrived in Hagrid's hut and got a look at him. That way, nobody would have been able to accuse Hagrid. We took Buckbeak into the outskirts of the forest. Then we waited.

"After our past-selves had left the Whomping Willow, we quickly fled back to Hagrid's hut to avoid Professor Lupin in his werewolf form. Hermione stayed in there with Buckbeak, but I was curious as to who had saved us from the dementors. So I went into the clearing….. the dementors were closing in on our past-selves and I knew that any time our saviour had to appear, right where I was hiding in the bushes…..

"But when nobody did come and my past-self was about to receive the dementor's kiss, I suddenly realized that the figure I had seen who was conjuring up the Patronus had been myself. I jumped out into the clearing and cast the charm, and my Patronus somehow managed to chase away all the dementors, thus saving our past-selves.

"Not much later, Professor Snape arrived and lifted us all on to stretchers, then floated the stretchers up to the school. Hermione and I waited. Then, Macnair, the executioner, came out of the castle- to get the dementors. We knew that we had to free Sirius quickly. So, Hermione and I mounted Buckbeak and flew up to the castle. We knew from Professor Dumbledore that Sirius was being held in Professor Flitwick's office. 

"We flew up to the window and opened it with a simple unlocking spell. We told Sirius to climb on and flew to the North Tower. There, Hermione and I jumped off, while Sirius fled on Buckbeak's back. Hermione and I arrived back in the hospital wing just in time."

"So Sirius was in no way responsible for Buckbeak's escape?" Dumbledore asked.

"No," said Harry firmly. "That was Hermione and me."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter." said Dumbledore. "Now, I am sorry to ask you this, as I am well aware of the traumatic events you encountered, but what happened in the night of the third task?"

Harry swallowed. He had known that this question would come up and prepared himself for the answer.

"I – as you probably know, the third task was a maze. A maze with monsters, traps and riddles in it. We were to get to the centre of the maze, where we knew the Triwizard Cup would be waiting as the trophy. The first person to touch it would receive 50 points.

"Cedric and I reached the cup at almost the same time. We argued about who should take it, and in the end came to the decision that we should take it together. So we grasped a handle of the cup, but as soon as we did, we were whisked away in a swirl of colours. The cup had been a portkey, and it took us straight to a graveyard….."

Harry proceeded to tell the court of "that night", as he had dubbed it in his mind. He told of Pettigrew killing Cedric, Voldemort regaining his body and their duel. He told of his parents' and Cedric's echoes coming out of Voldemort's wand, and of his flight from the graveyard. He even told of what had happened after that- Barty Crouch and his tale, and Harry's near demise at the latter's wand.

"Mr. Potter," said the headmaster, "Can you give us the names of the Deatheaters present at Voldemort's rebirth?"

"Um, sure," said Harry. "I don't know the names of all of them, but the ones Voldemort called by their names were Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Macnair, and….. Nethan Nott."

The courtroom was in an uproar again. It took almost ten minutes and several threats from the judge to calm everyone down.

"Mr. Nott," he said frostily, "You will be facing an inquiry by the Ministry of Magic after the trial. As will the other gentlemen Mr. Potter mentioned. Professor Dumbledore, please continue." 

"Thank you," said Dumbledore. "Mr. Potter, can you tell us what happened three days ago when Mr. Pettigrew was caught?"

"Everything Pettigrew told us was true," said Harry. "I saw a big, fat rat-" this made the audience chuckle again "-with a silver paw in the corner of your office. It ran as soon as it realized that I had seen it, and I followed it as quickly as I could. I chased it through the whole castle and on to the grounds, until we were almost in the Forbidden Forest. 

"There, Pettigrew jumped over a crack in the ground, and I followed him, but he transformed on the other side and cursed me. He proceeded to tell me about why he had hated my parents enough to betray them to Voldemort, and why he had turned to the dark side in the first place. The whole time, he pointed his wand at me, so I couldn't move. He cut my throat a little with a knife, but then he told me that killing magically was much more satisfying to him. 

"Pettigrew shot the killing curse at me. It felt strange, like everything was slowing down. I couldn't see after a while, couldn't hear, couldn't move,  could just feel the curse. I fought against it, I didn't want to die….. and then it was just gone, everything was back to normal, and the curse was speeding away from me and hit Pettigrew."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said. "Your Honour, no further questions."

"Very well." The judge nodded to Nott. "You may now question Mr. Potter, Nott."

Nott stepped forward with a sneer.

"_Mr._ Potter," he spat, "You admit that you and your, er, _friend_ Ms. Granger stole the hippogriff Buckbeak?"

"Yes," said Harry steadily. 

"Weren't aware that you were breaking one of the wizarding world's most important laws?"

"We were," said Harry. "I said so before."

"Then how come-"

"Objection!" Dumbledore stepped in. "This is not Mr. Potter's trial. I believe that this line of questioning is reserved for the jury."

"Sustained," said the judge coolly. "_Mr._ Nott, drop this issue."

"Certainly, _Your Honour_." said Nott through gritted teeth. "_Mr._ Potter. After your godfather escaped with your and Ms. Granger's help, were you in contact with each other?"

"Yes," said Harry. "Of course we were. We owled each other as often as possible. Sirius has helped me as much as he could last year."

"He has helped you?" Nott asked triumphantly. "So you admit that you cheated during the Tournament?"

"No," said Harry firmly. "I did not cheat. Sirius not once told me how to pass one of the tasks. Which, by the way, would not have been cheating."

It was the truth, Harry thought gleefully. Sirius had wanted to help him, but they had been interrupted by Ron.

Nott looked miffed.

"But you do admit that you have been in contact with a wanted criminal for over a year, without reporting him to the ministry?"

"Yes," Harry said with a sigh. "Sirius and I have been in contact. And of _course_ I didn't report him. The ministry would have thrown him back into Azkaban, or _worse_, sentenced him to the dementor's kiss without a second thought!"

"Very well," said Nott sourly, catching the judge's warning glance. "Enough of this. _Mr._ Potter, your….. _tale_…… of what- supposedly- happened after the third task, seems rather farfetched to me. Are you sure that you didn't, well, hit your head in the maze?"

"_Mr._ Nott," said Harry coldly. "I can assure you that I was not, in any way, dazed or mentally deranged when I arrived at that courtyard. I certainly didn't make up Cedric's dead body when I returned with the portkey, did I? And besides, _your_ client, Peter Pettigrew, has already testified under Veritaserum and confirmed my story. I really don't see why you're even asking this."

Nott earned himself another warning glare from the judge and a few indignant hisses from the audience.

"And what, _Potter_," Nott sneered, "Made you so sure of Black's innocence? How could you be convinced that he, and not Pettigrew, was telling the truth?"

"Aside from the fact that Pettigrew confessed his guilt, even back in the Shrieking Shack, you mean?" Harry asked politely. "Sirius's story made sense. More sense than the one I had heard before. All the pieces fell into place after that. I never doubted Sirius after that night about a year ago."

Nott seemed to cast about for anything to say, but apparently couldn't think of anything. He leafed through his notes for a while, but Harry thought that they were probably full of incriminating evidence against Harry. Now that the judge had forbidden Nott to ask any questions about Harry and dig up dirt on him, Nott was thrown. 

After a few more seconds of tense silence, giggles could be heard from the audience. People were starting to realize that Nott was not a good barrister at all. 

"Very well," he hissed after a while, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "I have no further questions."  
  


The judge raised an eyebrow at the lack of respectful address, but let the matter drop.

"You may return to your seat, Mr. Potter. Nott, your next witness."

The trial continued in this fashion for a few more hours. Nott kept making a fool of himself in front of everyone, more incriminating evidence against Pettigrew was found. Sirius's innocence was proven over and over again, and the audience was slowly becoming impatient.

Hermione's testimony took less than five minutes; for the most part, she just confirmed Harry's statement. 

It was a relief to everyone when all the witnesses were finally questioned and the judge stood up.

"Nott, as the primary accused's barrister, I ask you to make a final statement."

Nott stood up and stepped to the front of the room, facing the audience.

"My dear witches and wizards, Ladies and Gentlemen, honoured jury and judge. What we have seen in this trial is that even a kind-hearted, lovable man like Peter Pettigrew can become the victim of a dark and evil wizard like You-Know-Who. We have all heard numerous times about this man's strong bond with his friends, how he was pushed into the darkness by them, and how much he regrets the outcome of his, er, _decisions_. Maybe Mr. Pettigrew wasn't entirely innocent in the matters this trial addressed, but I am sure you will all agree that no harsh punishment should befall an unfortunate soul like his. Jury, I plead for a mild punishment for my client because of his obvious rue and the unlucky circumstances that made Mr. Pettigrew into the man he is today: A broken, rueful and sincere man grieving the consequences of actions he performed when he was still a young, irresponsible teenager. I ask that my client be let off with a fine or a temporary stay in a wizarding prison. Thank you."

Laughter and mocking comments met Nott's little speech. But Harry had to admit that it was hard to defend a man like Pettigrew who was so obviously guilty of murder and more.

"Thank you, Nott," said the judge, emotionlessly. "Professor Dumbledore, your statement, please."

"Thank you," said the headmaster calmly, stepping up to Nott.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, honoured judge and jury, I stand before you as the barrister of an innocent man. Sirius Black was in no way guilty of the crimes he was thrown into prison for. I trust that today's trial proved that sufficiently. But fourteen years ago, Sirius was not even given a chance to defend himself. He was convicted and punished in one of the worst ways possible without a trial, and spent twelve long years in the wizarding prison of Azkaban as an innocent man. I find that this is punishment enough to make up for the crimes Sirius actually is guilty of; for example, being an unregistered Animagus. Therefore, I ask, no demand, that my client, Sirius Orion Black, be let off with no punishment at all and a healthy compensation as well as an apology from the ministry of magic. I demand that my client's name be cleared immediately, that he be given his job back, should he want it; and that his property, including his wand and manor, be returned to him in excellent condition. Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen."

Dumbledore sat back down amidst the cheers of the crowd. 

The judge banged his wand impatiently a few times.

"Silence," he called over the noise. "The jury will now meet to discuss the trial, determining if they still have questions for the witnesses. We will be back in session by four o'clock. It is now exactly three minutes past two o'clock in the afternoon. Court adjourned."

The wand banged one final time and the audience started to stream out of the courtroom, discussing what they had just witnessed in lively tones. Nott and his witnesses, as well as Pettigrew and his guards, left through one of the back doors, the judge left through another, massaging his temples. Harry felt sorry for the man. 

"Well," Dumbledore said beaming, "That went quite well, wouldn't you agree? I think it is time that we had a little lunch. Please follow me."

They followed the headmaster through the remaining back door of the room into a small chamber with a big table and enough chairs around it to accommodate all of them. Harry gratefully collapsed into one of the chairs, feeling suddenly quite exhausted.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Remus asked worriedly.

"Fine," said Harry. "Really, I'm fine- just tired, I guess. Oh, Hermione, could you pass the potatoes, please?"

Indeed, as soon as they had sat down, food had appeared on the table. Hermione handed the bowl to Harry and helped herself to some carrots.

"Dumbledore's right, though," she said, reaching for the platter of chicken filet. "The trial really did go well. Sirius will definitely be freed. I just hope that- they won't punish us for- stealing Buckbeak and changing time."

Harry nodded, chewing thoughtfully. 

"I know what you mean," he said finally. "But personally, Hermione, I wouldn't worry too much. I mean, we saved an innocent man and an innocent beast through that, didn't we?"

Lunch break was over all too soon, and through the closed doors, Harry could hear the people streaming back into the courtroom. No matter what he had told Hermione, he was nervous. Would they be punished for their law-breaking? 

When the clock above the doorway stroke once, announcing that it was half past three, they returned to their seats in the courtroom. Sirius had been quiet throughout the meal and had been eating with a glazed look in his eyes. There was no denying that he was still heavily drugged with Veritaserum.

Harry fidgeted with his hands.

"Nervous?" a low voice in front of him asked.

Harry looked up, startled, into the light blue eyes of one Albus Dumbledore.

"A little," he admitted quietly.

The headmaster smiled congenially. 

"Ah, I wouldn't worry about your and Miss Granger's escapade. No, no, my dear boy, don't worry about that! They wouldn't punish two students for saving an innocent man….. let me assure you, Harry, that it will be just fine."

Harry nodded doubtfully, and Dumbledore moved away with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. Harry just hoped that Dumbledore was right.

Harry jumped as the doors to the courtroom crashed open again. In strode the judge (who had obviously left the chamber in the back of the room at some time) and the seventeen members of the jury. 

The audience fell silent immediately, everyone waited with bated breath as they all took their seats again- everyone, that is, except for one jury member who stepped up to the front of the room.

"Has the jury reached a decision?" the judge inquired.

"We have." the man said firmly.

"Is there a particular witness the jury would like to question again?"

"There is," said the old wizard. "Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, please step forward."

Harry gulped and closed his eyes briefly before he and his friend stepped down from their seats and up to the witness chair. 

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger." said the jury member. "This is merely a formal questioning concerning the issue of tampering with time." 

The wizard regarded Harry and Hermione sternly. Harry looked at the floor, biting his lip.

"You were aware at the time you committed this crime that it was a serious offence to the wizarding law?"

Harry gulped slightly.

"Yes," he said quietly, "I did know that."

"And you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione merely nodded, looking too terrified to speak.

"You were aware that such an offence could earn you a lifetime in the wizarding prison of Azkaban?"

Harry and Hermione's heads snapped up quickly.

"Apparently not," said the jury member. Harry thought for the briefest of moments that he sounded very, _very_ distantly amused.

"If you were aware that you were breaking an important law of the magical community even though you were not aware of the punishment, may I ask why you committed this crime?"

"To save Sirius," said Harry simply.

"And Buckbeak." added Hermione.

Now Harry was almost positive that the jury member looked amused.

"And if you were given the choice now between seeing someone die and tampering with time and thus earning yourself a lifetime in Azkaban, would you do it again?"

"Yes." said Harry and Hermione in unison.

This time, there was no mistaking the amused twinkle in the old wizard's eyes.

"Thank you, Miss Granger, Mister Potter. You may sit back down."

Harry and Hermione complied gladly.

The wizard questioned several more witnesses on some of their statements, but nothing important was discovered.

"The jury would like time to come to a decision now," the old wizard announced finally. 

"Very well," said the judge, who had been quiet during the questioning. "I trust that ten minutes will be enough?"

"More than enough," the old wizard assured, sitting back down on his seat with a bow.

The judge banged his wand on to his table.

"It is now 4:31. Court will be back in session in ten minutes. Court adjourned."

Nobody tried to leave the courtroom that time. People were sitting quietly and staring at the golden bubble- an Imperturbable Charm, Hermione explained quietly- surrounding the jury's bench and table.

The judge had conjured himself up an armchair and was sitting quietly as well, looking up at the ceiling and steepling his fingers.  

Harry himself was biting his lip worriedly, fidgeting in his seat. Hermione was chewing on her fingernails, Minerva was twisting the sleeves of her robes, Remus was running his hand through his hair over and over again- making it stick up in every direction possible until it looked worse than Harry's. Sirius was the only one who was looking completely calm, although Harry suspected that this had something to do with the Veritaserum.

Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes seemed to last for hours….. not a word was uttered in the tension-filled room, feet were shuffling, robes were rustling….. a wand dropped to the floor somewhere in the back of the room. Everybody flinched and a blushing witch picked it up quickly. 

Still, nobody spoke. 

Soon, people were shifting restlessly and staring transfixed at the bubble, willing the jury to hurry, come to a decision and finally break the horrible tension.

Harry thought he was going to scream with frustration- when suddenly, unexpectedly, finally, the golden bubble disappeared. 

Harry sat up straighter as two jury members stood up. Harry recognised them as the witch who had read Sirius's charges in the beginning of the trial and the wizard who had read Pettigrew's.  

The wizard stepped forward.

"Please administer the antidote to Mr. Pettigrew and Mr. Black. They must be of sound mind when listening to their verdict."

Snape stepped forward again, giving the potion to first Pettigrew, then to Sirius. He sat back down silently, and the wizard from the jury cleared his throat.

"We, the jury, have come to a decision." he said firmly. "I will address the charges individually.

"Verdict for Peter Pettigrew: 

"To the charge of being a Deatheater; we find Peter Pettigrew: **guilty**.

"To the change of betraying Lily and James Potter, who entrusted their lives to him by making him their secret keeper, to Voldemort; we find Peter Pettigrew: **guilty**.

"To the charge of murdering twelve muggles on November 2nd, 1981; we find Peter Pettigrew: **guilty**.

"To the charge of framing an innocent man, namely Sirius Black, for his crimes, which led to Sirius Black's twelve-years-long imprisonment in the fortress of Azkaban; we find Peter Pettigrew: **guilty**.

"To the charge of being an unregistered Animagus; we find Peter Pettigrew: **guilty**. 

"To the charge of helping Voldemort come back on June 24th, 1995, and of helping him since; we find Peter Pettigrew: **guilty**.

"To the charge of attempted murder of Harry James Potter on July 27th, 1995; we find Peter Pettigrew: **guilty**.

"To the charge of using at least one of the Unforgivable curses on Harry James Potter on July 27th, 1995; we find Peter Pettigrew: **guilty** of the use of Avada Kedavra.

"Furthermore, we find Mr. Pettigrew guilty of the murder of one Cedric Diggory on June 24th, 1995.

"Therefore, we, the jury, have sentenced Peter Pettigrew to receive the dementor's kiss. However, as the dementors recently have left our side, Mr. Pettigrew will receive a life sentence in the new wizarding prison. Until then, he will be held in one of the ministry's high security cells. Thank you."

The man stepped back and sat down as the witch took his place.

"Verdict for Sirius Orion Black:

"To the charge of being a Deatheater; we find Sirius Orion Black: **not guilty**.

"To the charge of betraying James and Lily Potter to Voldemort by breaking his oath as their secret keeper; we find Sirius Orion Black: **not guilty**, due to the fact that he was never the Potters' secret keeper.

"To the charge of murdering twelve muggles on November 2nd, 1981; we find Sirius Orion Black: **not guilty**.

"To the charge of being an unregistered Animagus; we find Sirius Orion Black: **guilty**.

"To the charge of breaking into Gryffindor Tower of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on February 24th, 1994; we find Sirius Orion Black: **guilty**, though his intention was not harming his godson Harry James Potter, but instead protecting him.

"To the charge of hurting a minor, namely Ronald Arthur Weasley, on June 6th, 1994; we find Sirius Orion Black: **guilty**, though it was obviously an accident.

"To the charge of stealing a potentially dangerous creature, the hippogriff Buckbeak, on June 6th, 1994; we find Sirius Orion Black: **not guilty**. Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger will be addressed later.

"To the charge of helping Voldemort come back to life on June 24th, 1995 and of helping him since; he find Sirius Orion Black: **not guilty**.

"Even though Mr. Black has been found guilty of some of his charges- that is to say, hurting a minor, breaking into Gryffindor Tower and being an unregistered Animagus- we, the jury, have decided not to assign any punishment, as we feel that the twelve years Mr. Black spent in Azkaban are more than enough payment for his crimes. 

"Furthermore, Mr. Ronald Arthur Weasley, who was unable to attend this trial, was contacted via floo powder during lunch break and has stated that he does not wish to press charges against Sirius Orion Black.

"We, the jury, declare Sirius Orion Black free of all charges. He is, from now on, a free man, his name is cleared. The ministry owes an apology to Mr. Sirius Black for falsely imprisoning him for twelve years; furthermore, Mr. Black will receive all his property, including his wand and mansion, back tonight. He will also receive a heavy compensation from the ministry of magic. The exact sum hasn't been determined yet; however, it will not be any lower than ten million galleons. Also, should Mr. Black wish to attain custody of his godson Harry Potter, he may do so. No past mistakes or history shall be held against him. That is all. Thank you."

The room interrupted into tumultuous cheers and applause. People were stomping their feet, whistling and screaming their approval. Others just left their seats and went to the front of the room, crowding around the still shocked Sirius and congratulating him. Sirius himself was looking infinitely overwhelmed and relieved, as well as very, very happy.

Hermione was practically jumping up and down in her seat, hugging Harry and anyone else within her reach.

"Harry, that's so brilliant!" squealed Hermione, throwing her arms around his neck yet again. "Sirius is free, I can't believe it….."

"Yeah," said Harry, a wide, slightly dazed grin on his face.

He and Hermione quickly descended from their bench and made their way through the crowd surrounding Sirius. Cameras flashed when they had finally reached him and thrown themselves at Harry's godfather, not caring that there were thousands of people watching, not caring that the next day, the whole wizarding world would see this picture in their edition of the Daily Prophet. 

"What do you say, Harry?" Sirius mumbled quietly, so only Harry and Hermione could hear. "Do you want me to take custody of you? Do you want to live with me?"

Harry stared for a second, then grinned even more widely, if that was possible.

"Yes!" he shouted happily, launching himself at Sirius again. "More than anything!"

Hermione squealed again.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you two!" And with that, she threw her arms around both Sirius and Harry, crying tears of joy; all three of them ignoring the bright flashes of lightning raining down upon them. 

~*~

Harry had still not stopped smiling three hours later. He could hardly believe how perfect the trial had gone.

Sirius was free, Pettigrew rotting away in a prison cell at the ministry of magic. He and Hermione had got away with a severe warning for their little Time-Turner stunt; after all, the judge had said, they had managed to save two innocent lives that night. Yes, two. Buckbeak the hippogriff had also been cleared of all charges and had happily reunited with Hagrid and his hippogriff friends. 

Nott, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle and Lucius Malfoy were facing an inquiry from the ministry of magic; but while Harry did not doubt that Crabbe and Goyle- who were just as stupid as their sons- would be sentenced to prison for being Deatheaters, Lucius Malfoy would find a way around it.

But at the moment, Harry didn't particularly care. They had returned to Hogwarts not long after the trial and celebrated Sirius's freedom for hours. Hermione had been allowed to stay together with her parents, who were altogether amazed by Hogwarts and its magic- especially the moving pictures and ghosts. 

At the moment, Harry was strolling happily and quietly around the gardens, coming closer to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hermione and her parents had gone home only ten minutes before and Harry had left the castle for a bit of fresh air.

With a fond smile, Harry remembered one of the conversations he had had with Sirius and Minerva during the celebration…..

*************************FLASHBACK**************************

"Harry," Minerva said seriously, "Sirius told me that you have agreed to live with him."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. 

"Oh, no, Minerva! I didn't even think- I mean, it's not like I'm choosing him over you, I just….."

But she quieted him with a raised hand and a smile.

"Harry, I was not implying that you have made the wrong choice. In fact, quite the contrary. I was going to thank you."

Harry blinked.

"Now, don't think that I would not love to take you in, Harry; because I would. But it is better if you live with Sirius."

"Why?" Harry asked curiously. 

Minerva shifted a little uncomfortably.

"You see, Harry," she said, "If you lived with me, people might accuse me of favouritism. Every time I gave you a good mark, which I do most of the time, they would question my motives. You would have to be assigned a private tutor instead of taking classes with me and your classmates. No, it is easier this way."

Harry nodded in agreement.

"What about Rhianna, though?" Harry said suddenly. "Rhianna Lupin. Remus is teaching Defence this year, right? Will she have a private tutor?"  
  


"Yes," said Minerva. "Remus has already arranged for someone to tutor her three times a week, during the periods where you will have lessons with him. I believe you know her tutor. It's Arabella Figg from the Order Council."

Harry nodded. Arabella had seemed nice enough.

"Sirius,"  he asked, remembering something. "Why didn't Pettigrew tell the court about my Animagus form?"

Sirius frowned slightly.

"I don't know, Harry," he admitted, "I have asked myself that. I assume that maybe he was paying back a little of his life debt to you by keeping that fact from the court- maybe, Harry, just maybe, there is still some part of Peter left in him- the old Peter who became an unregistered Animagus himself at your age to help one of his best friends and who loved nothing more than to set out on adventures with the rest of the Marauders."

*************************END FLASHBACK*************************

Things were definitely looking up, thought Harry, as he watched two squirrels fighting noisily for the same hazelnut. Sirius's freedom was the best birthday present Harry had ever received- early or not. And besides, Harry thought with a smile, it was only another four hours until he turned fifteen. 

His birthday! In the commotion following the trial, Harry had completely forgotten about it. Biting his lip, Harry wondered what would happen on his birthday. The prophecy would be fulfilled at midnight, he would come to his powers, lost in a clearing….. whatever that meant. Anticipation and dread formed in Harry's stomach into a tight knot, making him forget his brilliant mood for a second.

Looking around to see if anybody was watching- nobody was- Harry quickly transformed into his wolf form and just enjoyed the sensation. Animals were so much simpler than humans. They didn't usually have feelings such as dread, and Harry was relieved when the funny knot in his stomach melted away almost instantly.

A loud screech drew Harry-wolf's attention. One of the squirrels had won and was happily devouring the hazelnut, while the other was running away to the forest, chirping angrily to itself. The sight of its bushy, brown tail speeding away from Harry-wolf excited him….. and before Harry-wolf knew it, he had taken off after the small animal into the Forbidden Forest. The animal squeaked indignantly and sped up. Harry-wolf flattened his ears on his head and ran at top speed. He was getting closer now- just another five feet….. 

The squirrel suddenly jumped sideways and climbed up a tree. Harry-wolf howled in anger. From his spot on the ground, he could see the squirrel jumping from tree to tree, high above the ground.

Growling lowly, Harry-wolf followed it on the ground, hoping that maybe the squirrel would leap off the tree some time.

Harry-wolf was so focused on his task that he didn't realize how much time was passing, that it was high time for him to return to the castle, that the sun was setting and that he, Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, was somewhere in the middle of the Forbidden Forest chasing after a squirrel. The human part of Harry's mind had almost completely shut down, being overruled by the animal's strong instincts.

It was only when Harry splashed headlong into a river that he came to his senses. He shook his head and transformed back into his human form. How did he get here? He was somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, no doubt, but where? There was no path in sight, he was standing in a small clearing with a stream running through it. It reminded Harry a bit of his room, but it was much darker. In fact, even the sky was dark. With some shock, Harry realized that he must have spent _hours_ chasing after the squirrel.

Harry bit his lip as he contemplated what to do next. He had, in an uncharacteristic display of stupidity and carelessness, left his wand in the castle lying on the head table. He did not dare transform back into his Animagus form, afraid that the wolf might take over again and lead him even further into the wilderness. Retracing his steps in his human form was hopeless….. Harry knew that he hadn't gone in a straight line, quite the contrary.

The squirrel above him had leaped from tree to tree, apparently with no a particular destination in mind. They had been going in zigzags, circles and any other geometric constellation the squirrel had chosen. There was no chance for Harry to find his way back to Hogwarts in his human form, especially in the darkness. 

With a deep sigh, Harry collapsed between the roots of a giant oak tree.

For now, he would wait until morning and then attempt to find a way out of the forest.

"That's it," Harry sighed quietly to himself, as he heard an owl hooting loudly in the tree he was leaning against. "I've done it. Harry Potter, the great Boy-Who-Lived, is officially lost."

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_A/N: That's it, folks! Blimey, that was a  long chapter. Sorry again for the wait!_

**_IMPORTANT_**_: From now on, I will keep you updated on the progress of my chapters in my bio. So, if you're wondering whether I've just disappeared from the face of Earth, just check my bio!!! I will make sure that it's updated relatively regularly._

_ALSO__: This will most probably be the last chapter of Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers- before the real book five comes out. As of in exactly 22 days, this story will be considered an Alternate Universe. I hope that all of you will continue to read it, even though we will then (finally) know what really happens to Harry in his fifth year!_

_And now, **please do me the favour and review**!!!!!_

_Thank you all for your patience!!!_

_Until next time,_

**_Felinity_****_  ^_^_**


	12. Chapter Twelve: Birthday Mayhem

Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers      

Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter characters and places you recognise! They are all a product of JK Rowling's brilliant mind and imagination. I do own the plot, Rhianna Lupin (Yes! You'll get to meet her this chapter) and… er… 

**A/N (PLEASE READ!):** Hi everyone! So, this is it- after an endless time of waiting (on your part) and getting through the tedious bits of this chapter (on my part), here it is, the new chapter!!! Yay!!! Well, I hope you are still reading this after HP and the Order of the Phoenix has come out…

You might find that this chapter is slightly different from the others. First of all, I have revised the whole story- I am much more satisfied with the result now- so you might want to re-read it. Harry is more in-character than before, I think, and I took care of the over-sentimental bits. 

Second, the Harry in my story will never be as- volatile- and irresponsible as the one in the real book five, but I did try to make him act a little more like him. One of the main purposes of this chapter is to show that, even though Harry comes into his powers and is (or will be) the most powerful wizard ever, he is still a fifteen-year-old teenager- and fifteen-year-old teenagers make mistakes. Harry is not perfect, and he will never be; he is, first and foremost, a boy- and boys will be boys, right? ^_^

So, you will see Harry getting into trouble with Sirius this chapter, and probably another few times over the course of this story. Don't worry- it's not permanent! I'm a big fan of happy, mushy endings. 

With that said, have fun reading the new chapter!

Thank you all for your faithful patience-

Felinity ^_^

And now, on with the story!

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Chapter 12: 

**Birthday Mayhem**

_(This chapter is dedicated to Michael, who is my new beta reader and did a wonderful job! Thanks, Mike!)_

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He was cold. In fact, he was freezing. Why did it have to be so bloody _cold_ outside? Harry shivered as he pulled his robes more tightly about himself. Why did he have to be so stupid? Chasing after a squirrel- how could he have lost control so completely?

His teeth were chattering. The sound and sensation annoyed Harry. It was the end of July! It shouldn't have been that cold- yet it was. And he, Harry Potter, was stuck outside in a forest alone at night with nothing to defend himself other than his fists. And they, he knew from experience, wouldn't do a lot of good against creatures such as Acromantula. 

The stupidity of leaving behind his wand and then running into a dangerous forest at night… Harry hit his head against the tree he was leaning against in frustration. Sharp splinters of magical bark and wood tumbled to the ground, cutting painfully into his neck for revenge.

Harry cursed under his breath and sighed. The sky was clear and speckled with thousands of tiny stars. The moon was shining brightly. Harry felt a brief surge of relief as he realised that it wasn't a full moon- at least there were no werewolves lurking in the forest. 

With a tingle of apprehension, Harry again remembered that his birthday was fast approaching. Judging by the position of the moon and absolute darkness of the sky, Harry guessed that it couldn't be long until midnight… not long until he turned fifteen, and whatever came with it.

Not for the first time, Harry wished that the prophecy hadn't been so very vague. He knew now what the part with the clearing was about- he was definitely in a clearing, lost, and also feeling quite alone at the moment- but he still wondered about his powers. What would it feel like to be more powerful? Would there even be a difference? Would it hurt?

Harry felt a pang of loneliness at his last thought. Why couldn't he have been with Sirius now? Or with Minerva or Remus, Dumbledore, Snape, _anyone_? Everything had to better than being alone… being on his own.

He wondered if the others at the castle were worried about him. Had they even noticed his absence? Probably, he reasoned. He had, after all, been gone for a few hours. The solution to his problem suddenly hit Harry. His mind link. His connection with the other Order members! 

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the connection somewhere in the back of his conscious mind.

'Sirius? Remus? Minerva?' 

There was no answer. Harry tried again.

'Sirius? – Professor Dumbledore? Professor Snape?'

Only silence met his calls. Harry had to fight off his growing panic. If there had been an attack by Voldemort, he would have known. His scar would have alerted him. One of them would have told him! If not via mind link, then by owl. 

Still, it grew harder and harder to stay calm. Harry curled up a little more. His silvery little clouds of breath were barely visible in the moonlight. Just why was it so _cold_? 

After a while- it could have been a few minutes, but it felt like hours to Harry- he grew uneasy. Something was happening, he could sense it. A barely discernable shift in the air, a breath of something, a glimmer so powerful that it should not have come from this world…

Harry's unease grew as the uncomfortable sensation of being watched intensified tenfold. He pressed his back against the tree trunk behind him, wishing for the umpteenth time that night he had his wand. His right hand clenched around a small stone next to him on the ground- hardly a suitable weapon, yet it made Harry feel a little less helpless.

There was something in front of him. A bodiless shape, a formless being, but it was there nonetheless- for one panicked moment, Harry thought that the demon had followed him into the forest- but it wasn't possible, was it? The demon was bound to Hogwarts- it had said so- Dumbledore had said so…

Chills ran down Harry's spine as the swirl of something slowly solidified in front of him. Harry raised his badly shaking arm and threw the stone at the being in front of him with full force, but the stone went right through it.

The thing emitted a deep chuckle.

Harry tensed, his every muscle preparing to jump up, run, bolt, everything to get away…

"Relax," said the deep voice, sounding weary with age and powerful with timeless youth at the same time. "I am not here to hurt you."

"Oh no?" Harry asked, his voice tight with suspicion. "Who are you, then?"

The shape in front of him finally formed itself into that of a wizard. He was old, the oldest person Harry had ever seen. Dumbledore would have looked like a child next to him. His hair was long and grey, brushing the ground behind him. His beard was almost as long, coming to just below the wizard's knees.

He was wearing a white, old-fashioned wizarding robe and leaning heavily on to a beautiful staff made of dark wood.

But for all the signs of the wizard's enormous age, his dark blue eyes were looking at Harry with a sharpness and clarity Harry had only ever seen in Dumbledore's eyes. Those eyes made Harry feel as though the man in front of him could see every one of his deepest, darkest secrets. He averted his eyes hastily.

"Does it really matter who I am?" the man asked in that same brittle, powerful voice.

Harry raised his eyes again, meeting those of the stranger. They didn't look malicious, Harry noted with some relief, but rather calming and slightly amused.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yes. It matters to me."

The man raised his head a little higher, his eyes narrowing slightly, though not in a bad way.

"You would not believe me," said the man.

"Try me," said Harry.

The stranger chuckled again, a sound that reminded Harry of mouldered stone and roaring waterfalls. He sat down slowly beside Harry, taking a long time as though even such a simple task required a huge amount of effort. Harry supposed it made sense, seeing how old the man was. He scooted a little away from the stranger in distrust.

"Relax," said the man again, sounding a little impatient for the first time. "I am the Keeper of Power."

Harry stared.

"I knew you would not believe me," said the man with a sigh. "You probably haven't even heard of me, have you, boy?"

Harry shook his head silently.

"I thought so," said the man with a wheezy laugh, "it is better this way… you humans need not know of my presence… in fact, it is better that you do not…"

Harry finally found his voice again.

"Wh-Who are you?" he whispered, overwhelmed by the sensation of weariness and pure power the man was positively radiating.

The Keeper of Power laughed again. The strange, wheezy sound sent shivers down Harry's spine.

"Ah, Harry Potter," the old wizard whispered, "I am the Keeper of Magic… I overlook the ancient pools of magic in the Beyond. I see to it that the right number of people receives the gift of wizardry and witchcraft every year… and that it is taken back from those who pass beyond the veil and have no use for it anymore…" The man waved his hand impatiently.

"It is nothing one as young as you should concern yourself with… just an old man's meddling… but every once in a while, I get to play a small role in the course of fate and the balance of power…" The stranger frowned.

"I am neither light nor dark, understand that, Harry Potter… yet even I, the most neutral of all institutions… tend to play favourites…"

The Keeper wheezed another laugh.

"For every power there must be an opposite, Harry Potter… for every darkness there must be a light. And sometimes- I must decide who will bear the burden of fate and the responsibility of power… I must decide who will have the ultimate gift to victory… and sometimes, Harry Potter, I make mistakes… yes, even I… Tom Riddle was never intended to be so dark… he was to be a bright boy, an asset to the light side. Alas, another got to him first… and so it was my task to create another force that would exterminate this darkness… until another came along… and like this it shall be until the end of all things… yet as I said, this is nothing one as young as you should concern yourself with…"

The Keeper took a few wheezy breaths, as though talking so much had exhausted him. Harry hardly dared to breathe for fear of interrupting the old man.

"Tonight, young Harry Potter… you must receive the burden of your powers…"

The old man stopped talking. Harry waited for a few minutes, but he didn't say any more, just stared pensively up at the sky above him. 

"Um… yes?" Harry finally said.

The man turned to look at him and chuckled.

"You wonder what is going to happen, Harry Potter, to give you these powers… when, of course, you already have them."

Harry blinked incredulously.

"I do? But- I don't feel any different!"

The Keeper gave another of his wheezy laughs.

"Foolish child," he rasped fondly, "Of course you would not notice the difference! These powers have been inside you all the time… locked away in one of the deepest, darkest corners of your mind… only accessible to you in situations of dire and desperate need… you can use them now…"

"Really?" said Harry with a frown. "So, what can I do?"

"Try to levitate that pebble over there," the Keeper said, pointing his staff in the direction of the small stone Harry had thrown at him.

"I don't have my wand," Harry admitted ashamedly. 

"You… do not necessarily need one," said the Keeper. "Try it, boy…"

Harry frowned and raised his hand obediently.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he said, pointing his hand in the direction of the pebble and doing the 'swish and flick'-motion Professor Flitwick had taught them in his first year.

The pebble gave a tiny shudder and floated slowly upwards until it hovered about ten inches from the ground.

"Very good," the Keeper whispered, "Now, boy, let it go… you do not want to tire yourself out too quickly… wandless magic is very strenuous in the beginning… which brings me to another point…"  

Harry ended the spell and lowered his hand, feeling slightly exhausted. With some astonishment, he noticed that beads of sweat had formed on his face and wiped them away. 

"You will need to train, boy," whispered the old wizard, and Harry got the impression that his outline was growing fainter again. "Even if you do possess these powers now, they are largely untamed and variegated… it will require some effort on your part to discover and control them all… I am sure that your teachers will be glad to assist you in your training… and now it is time for me to go…"

"Wait!" Harry called. "Where are you going? You can't leave me out here like this…"

The Keeper of Power chuckled.

"Never fret, my boy," he said, though his voice was starting to sound distant, "You will find one of your new powers most helpful… look to the stars, Harry Potter… Good luck…"

And then he was gone. 

Harry couldn't help it- he felt annoyed. Here he was, supposedly the most powerful wizard of all times, lost, almost completely defenceless and freezing to death, in the middle of a forest; not to mention that it was after midnight!

Wasn't he supposed to feel powerful? Harry remembered some of the superhero-comics Dudley had left in his second bedroom. Somehow, he couldn't remember a scene where any of them were stuck in such a predicament without a real chance of escape!

Harry sighed as reality dawned on him. Despite his new powers, despite his destiny, he was still Harry Potter, a fifteen-year-old boy like any other. Or almost.

What had the Keeper of Power said? Look to the stars…

Harry looked up. The sky looked almost exactly like it had a few minutes before- the moon had progressed a little more on its journey across the night sky, the constellations had moved a little with it. Harry could make out and identify quite a few of them; after all, he had had Astronomy lessons for the past four years. 

Maybe he could use the constellations for orientation? Harry knew that to return to Hogwarts, he had to go north, as the Forbidden Forest lay south of the castle. After a few frustrating minutes of trying to remember where it was, Harry found the North Star. 

And to his great surprise, Harry found himself able to navigate with help of the stars. He hesitated for a few minutes. Should he really try to find his way back to the castle on his own, and in the middle of the night? Did he dare? Maybe it would be wiser to simply remain in his place and wait for the others to find him- then again, who knew when they would? The Forbidden Forest was gigantic; the search could take days…

His mind made up, Harry stepped away from the tree and brushed away the dirt on his clothes. Taking one last deep breath, Harry left the brightly lit clearing behind him and started into the forest.

It was eerily silent at night. Apart from the occasional hoot of an owl and some rustling in the underbrush, Harry could hear nothing. The silence unnerved him and almost made him wish for something to happen… a howl in the distance… Harry shuddered as he thanked his luck once again that it wasn't a full moon. 

Sometimes, sharp cracks and snaps of breaking branches and the sound of leaves being crushed made Harry whirl around in panic, his arm raised before him defensively like a wand, but it always turned out to be a rat, mouse, or once even a unicorn.

It was hard to say who was more startled, the unicorn or Harry. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, and then the unicorn reared, whirled around on its hind legs, and dashed away into the trees. It vanished from sight almost immediately.

After that particular encounter, Harry felt a little more confident. No unicorn would linger in the area if there were any imminent danger!

"Oh, bloody hell," Harry mumbled a few minutes later. The treetops above his head had become denser and darker, and suddenly, the sky was blocked from Harry's view. Harry looked around in the darkness and felt blind. He couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face. 

Cursing under his breath a little more, Harry stumbled on, trying to keep going in a straight line. Unfortunately, the forest apparently didn't care where Harry's straight line went- Harry kept running headfirst into trees, stumbling over tree roots protruding from the ground, bumping his head painfully on low boughs, catching his sleeves on thorns and ripping his clothes (and skin) in the process of freeing them and being snapped in the face by flexible branches.

If only he had his wand, Harry thought morosely as he nursed a growing bump on the back of his head. Only a little light. Nothing fancy, mind you, he couldn't afford to alert the ministry- just a simple 'Lumos'-spell. Something as easy and harmless that any first year could pull it off. But Harry didn't have his wand, and as such…

„…don't necessarily need one…"

Harry contemplated hitting himself in the forehead, but that wasn't necessary; one of the branches in front of him had done the job. Rubbing the swelling bruise with a grimace, Harry lifted his hand.

"_Lumos_."

It took longer than with his wand, which reacted instantly to Harry's commands, but soon, a small, flickering ball of light blossomed in Harry's palm. Smiling to himself and feeling as triumphant as though he had just managed to produce a corporeal Patronus on his first ever try, Harry continued on his way.

It went a lot smoother now that he could actually see where he was going. Not five minutes later, the forest lightened a bit again. Harry glanced up and saw, to his great relief, that small bits of night sky were again visible through the treetops. As soon as he spotted the North Star, Harry checked his position.

He hadn't drifted too much off course to his great satisfaction, only a little more to the west…  

Harry had no idea how long he had walked, but as the sky slowly started to become lighter, the trees were getting sparser as well and Harry quickened his pace in anticipation. Sure enough, there, in the distance, Harry could make out the shimmering lake. Hagrid's hut was not too far off, neither were the greenhouses; and then Harry could even see the castle itself.

It looked dangerous and mysterious in the semi-darkness. Harry paused for a moment, admiring its thousands of little and big towers and battlements… Harry secretly thought that Hogwarts, like the Burrow, was one of those buildings that could not have existed without magic, as it defied all laws of gravitation Harry had ever heard of.

'Sirius? Are you there?' Harry called through his mind link.

'Phrrr… _five_moreminutesmum…'

Harry snorted. Apparently, Sirius was just fine.

'SIRIUS BLACK!!!'

'Wha… I swear, Pr'fessor Flitwick, I don't know where those dung bombs came from! It must have been… _HARRY_?'

'You'll have to tell me the whole story sometime, Sirius,' Harry remarked dryly. 

'Merlin, _Harry_, are you all right? Are you hurt? Where are you? Don't move, I'm coming to get you! Harry, are you ok? Where are you, Harry? Are you at Hogwarts? Don't enter the castle alone! Are you at the Burrow? Did you-"

'Shut _up_, Sirius,' Harry thought loudly. 'I'm fine. I'm not hurt. I'm on Hogwarts grounds, at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. I'm going to walk to the castle now, and no, I'm not going to enter. Will you come to the entrance hall?'

'Of course, Harry, give me a minute… and remember, _don't _enter the castle unless I am with you!'

'I know, Sirius.' 

Harry felt tired as the tension and adrenaline that had kept him going for the past few hours finally began to seep from him. He trudged up to the castle slowly and tiredly, knowing that it would take Sirius a few minutes to reach Hogwarts's front doors. 

On his way through the dewy grass, Harry disturbed the sleep of a hornet. The insect buzzed angrily and aggressively around Harry. He pointed his hand at it half-heartedly.

"_Stupefy_."

The hornet gave one last indignant buzz and fell to the ground, Stunned. 

Harry shook his head as he walked a safe distance away from it before casting 'Enervate'. This new power unnerved him, even though it did come in handy. And since he hadn't been swamped by ministry owls saying that he was expelled, he assumed that the ministry could not detect this kind of magic. 

He felt drained, though. He really needed to work on that! Voldemort wouldn't be defeated if Harry cast _Wingardium Leviosa_, _Lumos,_ and _Stupefy_ and then collapsed from exhaustion.

As he passed the last greenhouse, Harry wondered what else he could do. The Keeper had been very close-mouthed. What if he didn't discover all of his powers? What if he missed only one, crucial thing to defeating Voldemort?

Anxiety and dread churned in Harry's stomach before he forcefully shoved these thoughts aside. The final battle wasn't too near, Harry knew that instinctively. He would have time, loads of time to train, to prepare… for the last confrontation between the dark and the light side, the last battle of good and evil.

Harry knew that Voldemort wasn't the first dark wizard, and that he wouldn't be the last. But his, Harry's, role in fate ended there. He was the one destined and prophesised to defeat Voldemort- after that, a hopefully long period of freedom and peace would follow, allowing Harry and the whole wizarding community to live a life of relative ease. 

Harry dared not imagine what would happen if he failed, if the prophecy was fake. The light side would continue fighting without him, he knew that- Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix would never give up, not even because of his death.

But at the same time, Harry was uncomfortably aware of the hopes and expectations many light wizards placed in him. His death itself wouldn't lose the war- but it would destroy moral on the light side, and subsequently mean the end of the war in Voldemort's favour.

He couldn't let that happen. No, he would train. He would slave long and hard, until he was sure that each and every one of his powers was discovered and under his full control. He would enter the final battle well-prepared, and Voldemort wouldn't know what hit him.

The thought of his nemesis made Harry smile grimly in satisfaction. Word of his new powers must not reach Voldemort's ears. He would have to train in secret- maybe even hold back in classes. It wouldn't do for Malfoy junior to get suspicious and inform his father of Harry's sudden increase in academic success. Lucius Malfoy might inform Voldemort, and then Voldemort would know that the second part of the prophecy had been fulfilled. 

Harry would keep Voldemort unaware. He would make him think that the prophecy was just as fake as the woman who had predicted it. He would play average Harry Potter in classes… and in the end, when it came to defeating his enemy, the element of surprise would be his, and it would be the key to Voldemort's destruction.

Harry nodded to himself, the grim smile still playing on his lips. He had sped up inadvertently and reached the front doors much more quickly than he had expected. Sirius was not there yet, though Harry could sense his presence approaching hastily. He was two landings above the entrance hall, when the staircase changed on him. Harry sighed. Sirius was now on the seventh floor. It would take him a while to get downstairs.

Harry startled as he realised that he could actually sense Sirius's presence. Probing with his mind a bit, Harry found that he could also identify the other occupants of the castle. Professor Snape was in his Potions lab, brewing a simple minor healing potion for Madam Pomfrey's stores. Professor Dumbledore and his godmother were sitting in the library, worrying about and waiting for him. Remus was pacing in his room. Filch was making one of his nightly rounds. The other professors were all in their own rooms, and, judging by their slightly blurred auras, fast asleep.

Harry sat down on the front steps heavily as he realized what was happening to him. He could sense other people's presences, their auras. He could sense where they were, how they were, and what they were doing. Harry wondered how far his senses could be extended and concentrated on Hogsmeade. The houses nearest to Hogwarts were no problem, but then things got hazier. He could no longer identify people clearly, only those he knew personally stood out.

Madam Rosmerta was just going to bed after a long night of serving drinks in the '_Three Broomsticks_'. The owner of Zonko's joke shop was sleeping peacefully in his bed, while his ten-year-old twin sons used one of their father's newly invented products to dye all of his clothes, including his pyjamas, rainbow-coloured. 

Harry snickered to himself. 

Sirius was approaching now, and Harry got up, facing the doors expectantly. Not five seconds later, the doors were thrown open so hastily that they banged loudly against the wall, screeching and yelling angrily in protest.

"_Harry_!" 

And before Harry even had a chance to answer, his godfather swept him into a bone-crushing hug.

"Oh Merlin, Harry, are you ok? We were so worried…and your wand! What were you thinking, Harry? Going out alone at night without your wand! You could have been hurt! You could have been seriously hurt! Circe, Harry, you idiot, you could have been _killed_!"

All the time, Sirius tightened his hold on Harry, who was running low on oxygen.

"Si-ri-us!" he managed to choke out, squirming desperately. "Gerroff me!"

Sirius released him, turned away slightly and passed a shaky hand over his eyes.

"I'm sorry… Harry, just don't scare me like that… when you didn't come back in and we found your wand on the table… and you weren't on the Marauders' map… and the Order mind link wasn't working… for a moment, we thought… you… that you'd…"

Sirius broke off, breathing heavily. Harry felt tremendously guilty. 

"Listen, Sirius, I'm sorry," he pleaded. "I never meant to worry you! I was just going to go for a short walk, and then I transformed into a wolf, and then I saw two squirrels, and one of them was running away, and I just- I lost control completely, Sirius, there was nothing I could do! I forgot that I was human and I just chased after the squirrel for hours, and then it got dark, and I realised that I had no idea where I was, and I-"

"Breathe, Harry," Sirius said with a pained smile, "It's ok."

Harry sighed in relief.

"But-" Sirius continued, and Harry's stomach plummeted again, "-you're grounded."

"What?" yelped Harry. "Grounded? You can't do this! I'm not a five-year-old, Sirius, you can't ground me!"

"I can and I will, Harry." Sirius said firmly. "What you did tonight was foolish, irresponsible and downright suicidal. You left your wand in the castle. You went outside without telling anyone-" Harry bristled at that- "- and you took an unnecessary risk transforming into your Animagus form when you have had virtually no training! Damn it, Harry! Don't you ever think? Why do you think Animagus transformations are so dangerous? It's not just the process of transforming that can go horribly wrong; it's also the danger of losing control over your animal! I thought you understood that, Harry! I expected better of you!"

Harry hung his head, feeling thoroughly chastised and cowed. He had never seen Sirius become so angry and stern. He realized that he had really messed up this time.

Sirius closed his eyes as he saw the look on his godson's face.

"Come, Harry," he said quietly, his voice icy with barely restrained anger. "I don't trust myself to talk to you right now. I will walk you to your room and then I expect you to sleep. _No_ protest! I will notify Albus, Remus and Minerva of your arrival. They are worried out of their minds."

Harry followed his godfather back to his room in dejected, or in Sirius's case stony silence. He changed into his pyjamas quickly and slipped under the covers of his bed, all under the furious glare of his godfather. He felt like crying. Sirius wordlessly handed him his sleeping potion and Harry gulped it down without meeting his eyes. He fell asleep immediately.

~*~

Harry woke up feeling miserable. For a few, disoriented moments he didn't understand why, and then the memories crashed back down with frightening intensity. Sirius, his beloved godfather, was absolutely furious with him- so furious that he hadn't even wanted to look at, much less talk to Harry that night. He was grounded, too. 

_'Bloody wonderful,' _Harry thought bitterly, _'and all that on my birthday.'_

Harry had actually looked forward to his birthday that year- it would be the first birthday he could remember without the Dursleys. He was surrounded by people who cared about him… especially Sirius. 

And now he had gone and messed it all up. Sirius hated him, and he hadn't even seen Minerva, Remus and Dumbledore yet… Harry felt sick as he imagined the look of disappointment that would surely shine in Dumbledore's eyes, replacing that annoying but reassuring twinkle. 

He felt even worse when he thought of Remus. He wouldn't yell, probably, unlike Sirius… but he, like Professor Dumbledore, would be so terribly disappointed… and Minerva… Harry didn't quite know her well enough to predict what her reaction would be, but he envisioned endless detentions, detraction of house points and a long, furious lecture that would leave him feeling even more terrible, if that was possible.

Harry groaned unconsciously.

"Harry."

Harry opened his eyes painfully slowly and turned to the source of the voice, filled with dread. It was Snape, and he was looking at Harry with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"Are you going to yell at me, too?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. 

Snape smiled slightly.

"No. I am sure that you will hear enough yelling today."

Another jolt of dread shot through Harry's stomach.

"Why are you here, then?" Harry asked.

One of Snape's eyebrows rose.

"Why, Harry, to keep you company."

"Company?" Harry said warily.

"Yes." Snape sneered slightly. "Your- godfather- has decided that since you are grounded, nobody should talk to you for a few hours to let you think about what you have done, a course of which Albus and Minerva approved."

"You did not," Harry observed.

"No," said Snape. "I find that leaving a child to think about the possible repercussions of his or her mistakes for too long, especially when said repercussions involve punishment dealt out by loved ones, will only allow the aforementioned child to work him- or herself into quite a state – which, depending on the severity of the mistake and the character of the child, can border on emotional abuse. A concept which many parents and guardians cannot seem to grasp."

"That's a harsh way of putting it," Harry said quietly.

"But it is accurate," said Snape. "Especially in your case."

Immediately, Harry's misery came rushing back to him. 

"Sirius hates me!" Harry groaned.

Snape made a strange sound at the back of his throat.

"See what I was talking about, Harry? I assure you that Black does not hate you."

"Yes he does!" Harry said desperately and dejectedly. "He was so angry last night! He yelled at me and then he refused to talk to me any more. Said that he didn't trust himself, and he sent me to bed without another word. He was so disappointed!"

"He is angry and disappointed, Harry, yes," Snape said, in a voice that was uncharacteristically kind for him. "But he does not hate you. Black yelled at you last night because you worried him, Harry. Black spent the better part of last night thinking that you were dead He was positively hysterical, wanted to go out and look for you in the dark immediately. The headmaster had to Stun him eventually to keep him from doing something foolish. I hate to say it, Harry, but Black's actions were justified. I am actually surprised that he managed to control himself as much as he obviously did."

Harry hung his head again.

"So you think this is right? That I deserve my punishment?"

Snape produced another one of those sounds.

"I already told you what I thought of the no-talking-rule, Harry," he said firmly. "But I do think that you deserve to be grounded. What you did was careless. No wizard should ever go anywhere without his wand, especially you, Harry. You are the Boy-Who-Lived. You have many enemies. Such carelessness could get you killed."

Harry sighed.

"Rest now," Snape said, getting up from his chair and putting one hand on Harry's shoulder. "Read a book or do your homework. You cannot leave your room until Black, Lupin, Minerva and Albus have talked to you. I will send a house-elf up here soon with your breakfast. Don't worry too much, Harry. They will rant and rave and make you feel terribly guilty for what you have done, but none of them will actually think any less of you and they are all very relieved that you have come home safely. They will also want to know what happened in the forest last night… I think I will come and listen to that part, if you don't mind?"

"Of course not," Harry said quickly. He would be grateful for Snape's company… it looked like his Potions Professor was the only person he cared about who would not be terribly disappointed in him that day.

"Relax," Snape said, apparently having read some of Harry's thoughts. "They won't be too harsh, Harry. It's your birthday after all."

Snape drew a small parcel from his robes and handed it to Harry. It felt somewhat warm in Harry's hands.

"Happy birthday, Harry. Good luck."

"Thanks," Harry said softly, just before the portrait fell shut behind his professor. Harry looked at the parcel when it suddenly turned a pleasantly cool temperature. 

Curiously, Harry peeled off the blue wrapping paper and pulled out a small pendant. It was a relatively flat, oval, completely clear stone with a strange kind of mist swirling inside of it. Crystal of some sort, Harry realised. There was a hole drilled into one end of the stone with a simple black leather strap threaded through it. 

Harry picked up the note that had come with the parcel curiously and read.

_Harry,_

_Happy Birthday. This is no ordinary pendant. It has special powers, and I want you to wear it at all times, Harry, even when you are swimming. Never take it off. There are several strong protection charms placed on it, as well as a tracking spell. If you are ever taken from the Hogwarts grounds against your will, the spell will activate and lead the bearer of your pendant's counterpart- that is to say, me- to your location. When we are in close proximity, the pendant can also be used to communicate. Just grip it tightly with both hands and think hard of what you want to say to me. My pendant will tingle, and as soon as I touch it, I will hear whatever message you transmitted to me. It will work the other way around, too, of course. However, as I said, we will need to be in close proximity- so both on the Hogwarts grounds- for this to work. The pendant has other powers, too. If a person bearing the Dark Mark is near you, the pendant will heat up- so it will probably have been very warm when I handed it to you. When the pendant turns red, it means that the person near you cares about you. When it turns blue, the person has bad intentions and you should stay away from him/her. Should the pendant ever turn black and begin to pulse, I want you to return to Hogwarts as quickly as possible, because it will mean that you are in acute, life-threatening danger._

_One more thing, Harry- this pendant can never be taken off by anyone other than you or myself._

_The pendant has another few features, Harry- for example, it turns yellow whenever its counterpart is approaching- but I will leave you to figure the rest out on your own._

_Have a nice day._

_Professor S. Snape_

Harry smiled as he lowered the letter. It was a thoughtful gift, not something he would have expected from Professor Snape, considering that they had spent the past four years hating each other passionately. 

He lifted the pendant carefully and looked at it against the light. It sparkled beautifully in the sun. Harry's smile widened as he tied the leather strap securely around his neck and hid the pendant beneath his shirt. 

It only then occurred to Harry that he was alone in the room. Panic overwhelmed him for a second. What if the demon came and attacked him again? Who would help him? Were Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore and Minerva so angry with him that they had decided to leave him to the demon's clutches? 

Harry grasped the pendant tightly and closed his eyes.

_*Professor Snape, what about the demon? I'm alone!*_ Harry thought furiously. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then the pendant tingled pleasantly. Harry touched it carefully, and Snape's voice rang through his head. 

_*Don't worry, Harry. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall have found a solution to your problem, at least as long as you are in your room. This demon is too solid to pass through walls; it has to use doors like humans. Your portrait has been heavily warded with protection charms- it won't be able to pass through there, Harry. As long as you stay in your room, you can be alone safely. The same thing has been done to Gryffindor Tower and all of your classrooms, as well as the Professors' offices, the Great Hall and the Hospital Wing. The demon can only confront you now in the hallways, in abandoned classrooms and in rooms such as the Trophy Room- you are not to go in there, Harry, and never alone. Do you understand?*_

_*Yes, Professor,*_ Harry sent back, feeling a little cowed and relieved at the same time. _*And… thank you very much for the pendant. It's great.*_

This time, the answer arrived almost immediately.

_*You are welcome.*_

Harry smiled slightly and, feeling better, released the pendant. The mist inside it was clear and floated around peacefully, reminding Harry a little of white clouds in a clear sky.

His smile faded a little as he remembered his current predicament. Twinges of unease again settled in Harry's stomach. The pendant warmed slightly. Harry was startled. Were Deatheaters nearby? But the warmth was not uncomfortable and didn't feel threatening at all. In fact, Harry felt comforted and rather peaceful. 

There must be a slight Cheering Charm on the pendant, Harry realised. He shook his head. His Potions professor was full of surprises.

Glancing at the clock, Harry realised that it was only ten o'clock in the morning.  

He sighed as he pulled out his schoolbooks, some parchment, ink and a quill and started on his Charms homework. Honestly, doing homework on his birthday! Harry was disgusted. 

~*~

Harry was so caught up in his work that he almost missed the change in his pendant. Pulling it out curiously, he noticed that the swirling mist had turned red. Harry checked Professor Snape's letter quickly. Someone who cared about him was nearby.

Harry's stomach lurched uncomfortably as he realised what that meant. He checked the clock on his wall. It was almost noon. Sirius, it seemed, had decided that Harry's time was up and was approaching to talk to him, probably together with Harry's godmother, the headmaster and Remus.

Harry put away his homework and prepared himself mentally for a thorough dressing down. No sooner than he had put his quill back on to his desk, the portrait hole swung open and the aforementioned four people climbed into his room. 

Harry swallowed at the identical, stony looks on their faces. He was really in for it.

Dumbledore took out his wand and for one panicked, wild moment Harry thought that he was going to hex him. But the headmaster merely flicked it four times, making four comfortable-looking squashy red chairs appear in mid-air. They revolved slowly for a moment, then clattered down noisily. 

The four of them each chose a seat and sat down, never losing that- _expression_- on their faces.

There was a minute of uncomfortable silence, in which Harry fidgeted nervously with his hands and avoided the gazes of the four most important adults in his life.

Finally, it was Dumbledore who broke the silence.

"Harry." he said.

Harry stilled his hands and kept his gaze on his bedcovers.

"Harry," the headmaster said again, sounding just the slightest bit impatient and commanding. Harry raised his head unwillingly and met Dumbledore's scrutinising, piercing, light-blue eyes. 

Harry found that he could not look away, as if hypnotised by Dumbledore's steady gaze. For a second, he thought that he felt something probing at his mind and shook his head unconsciously, pushing against the force. Dumbledore leaned forward and the pressure in Harry's mind increased. 

Harry gripped his head and mentally lashed out at the invisible force with all his might, the way he would throw off an Imperius Curse. 

Dumbledore sat back and the pressure vanished. Harry found that he was breathing harder than usual and turned to look questioningly and suspiciously at the old wizard.

The headmaster was wearing a small, unreadable smile.

"Curious," he remarked casually. 

"Headmaster?" came Sirius's voice from the left.

Harry jumped involuntarily. He had forgotten that there were more people in the room other than the headmaster and himself, three people in fact, who were looking back and forth between Dumbledore and himself with puzzled frowns.

"It seems," Dumbledore said calmly, "That Harry here is now able to ward off Legilimency attacks."

"What?" Harry asked, though he wasn't the only one. 

"Legilimency," Dumbledore continued, speaking mainly to Harry, "Is the ability to invade and extract thoughts and memories from another's mind, mostly used to find out your enemies' weak points. Muggles might refer to it as mind-reading, though there is more to it than that, naturally. It requires an enormous amount of mental power and concentration to break into another person's mind, as minds tend to be heavily protected… just as it takes an enormous amount of effort and concentration to keep a Legilimens out of one's mind. The ability to ward of a Legilimens's attack is called Occlumency, which is the art of defending and hiding one's thoughts, emotions and memories. Skilled Occlumenses can even manipulate and make up new memories, thus feeding their opponent wrong information. It is a highly useful skill, Harry, and one you will be able to use well… especially against Voldemort, who is an extremely proficient Legilimens."   

"Oh," said Harry. "Um- wow…"

Dumbledore smiled a little more, though he sobered rather quickly and regarded Harry with that strangely stony expression again that seemed so out of place on his usually kind face.

"Now, Harry," Sirius interrupted coolly, making Harry cringe. "Would you mind explaining to us what possessed you to commit the utter stupidity of leaving the castle alone, without telling us where you were going or taking your wand, transforming into your unregistered and not fully controlled Animagus form without supervision and running into the Forbidden Forest at night?"

Harry cringed again. Somehow, Sirius made it all sound worse. 

"I forgot," he mumbled.

"Forgot what?" his godmother interjected icily. Her lips were pressed so tightly together that they were almost invisible, and her glasses were flashing angrily.

"I forgot to take my wand!" Harry clarified, feeling embarrassed. "The clothes I was wearing didn't have any big pockets, so I had to keep it in my sleeve, so it was constantly falling out or poking me somehow, so I just put it on the table. I never meant to leave it there, but then Hermione called me because she and her parents were leaving, and I went to see them off, and then I was outside and I just wanted to take a short walk… and then-" Harry broke off.

"Then what?" Remus asked quietly. His steady, unreadable gaze reminded Harry of Dumbledore's similar expression. 

"I remembered the prophecy," Harry admitted quietly. "I had almost forgotten, y'know, with Sirius's trial and all, and I was wondering what was going to happen, and I felt so dreadful…

And then I shifted into my Animagus form because animals are simpler and I did feel better… and then I saw those two squirrels that were fighting over a nut, and then one of them ran away into the direction of the forest and I- I lost it. I ran after it and I almost caught it, too, but it climbed on to a tree and from there it hopped to the next one, and I followed it on the ground for hours…

"And then I suddenly realised that it was dark and I had no idea where I was, or where I had come from, and that I didn't have my wand! So I figured that I would stay in the forest that night and sat down in a clearing to wait…"

Harry stopped and looked at the four people in front of him who were looking at him with various degrees of fury (Sirius and Minerva) and understanding (Remus and Dumbledore).

He took another deep breath, focusing mainly on Sirius now who was apparently still not convinced.

"Listen, I'm sorry..... I know it was stupid, I shouldn't have left my wand at the castle and I'm really sorry, but its ok, it's alright..... I'm ok. I'm not hurt or anything, it's fine. It was supposed to be that way. The prophecy said so! It's not like anything happened-"

But this time, he had apparently pushed Sirius too far. The Animagus jumped up so quickly that his chair toppled over and towered over Harry.

"NOTHING HAPPENED?" he roared, "YOU THINK THAT _NOTHING HAPPENED_? WE WERE WORRIED OUT OF OUR MINDS, YOU FOOLISH _CHILD_, AND YOU ACT LIKE EVERYTHING IS FINE!? SNEAKING INTO THE FOREST AT NIGHT, _WITHOUT YOUR WAND_! I OUGHT TO-"

But now, Harry was getting angry as well. 

**"_SHUT UP_!"** he yelled, interrupting his godfather before he could say anything he would regret later. Sirius looked thunderstruck. 

"Don't you think I know that?" Harry said at a more civilised volume. "Do you think I enjoyed being lost in a dangerous forest in the dark without anything to defend myself with? It was bloody _cold_ out there! I tried to contact you through our mind link, and I didn't get a response! I didn't know whether Voldemort had attacked somewhere and you were all dead! I didn't even know what time it was! I was lost in a bloody forest, Sirius, _damnit_! And all the time I knew that midnight was coming closer and I had no idea what was going to happen to me! Do you think I _liked_ all that, Sirius?"

Harry was trembling with silent fury and admittedly a little fear. Sirius's behaviour reminded him all too much of Uncle Vernon.

"Besides," Harry said coldly, "you are one to talk. I'm not the one who spent all my school days deliberately breaking school rules just for the fun of it and I'm not the one who kept prancing around in the Forbidden Forest every full moon night with my friends! How dare you lecture me on something like this, Sirius! You're such a _hypocrite_!"

The look in Sirius's eyes was frightening and Harry wished that he had just kept his big mouth shut. Sirius's eyes looked wild and murderously angry, he was clenching and unclenching his left fist while his right hand gripped his wand tightly, all the while bent slightly over Harry's bed and looking like he was itching to physically attack or curse him- or both.

"Now, Sirius," Remus said nervously, "Calm down. Harry didn't mean it that way, did you, Harry? He was just… we all say things we don't mean when we are angry, you know that, Padfoot, _don't you_…"

With what looked like an immense amount of self-control, Sirius pocketed his wand, turned around and left the room without another word. Harry opened his mouth as if to say something to him, but the portrait slammed shut before he found the right words.

The sound rang like a gunshot in Harry's ears as he sank back on his bed bonelessly. He felt shaky and numb. He and Sirius had just had their first fight. He and Sirius had just had their first fight… the words repeated themselves over and over in Harry's head. 

"Harry…" Remus had got up and sat on the bed next to Harry. "Sirius will come around… he was just a bit worried about you, Harry…"

With a choked cry, Harry launched himself at his werewolf friend and burrowed his face in his robes. He was shaking and didn't even know why.

"Harry," Remus said again, rubbing Harry's back soothingly, "Sirius _will _come around. He has always had a quick temper; I daresay that he is already feeling sorry for yelling at you."

Harry pulled away and nodded quickly. He gripped his pendant tightly and mentally called Snape. He arrived not half a minute later and Harry gathered that he had been close-by. 

"Are you done yelling at the boy, then?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"Yes," Minerva said, glancing warily at Harry. "No. Maybe. Harry was going to tell us what happened at midnight, weren't you, Harry?"

Harry nodded quickly and shoved all other thoughts away. He explained everything about the Keeper of Power and what he had- or hadn't- told Harry.

"So, the powers you already know you possess are…? Remus asked.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore.

  
"Occlumency, apparently," the latter said, "Star-Navigation, which is actually a common skill among centaurs, Empathy- which is the ability to sense people's auras and subsequently feelings- and Wandless Magic. Impressive, and probably only a small part of what you can do. I daresay that you will also find that your spells have increased in strength, Harry. The powers we blocked from you when you were a baby are fully accessible to you."

Harry sighed. To think that he had always wanted to be just a normal boy…

"There is something else we must discuss," said the headmaster firmly. 

Harry looked up again

"Your punishment."

Harry groaned and closed his eyes. 

"I know you regret what happened, Harry, but what you did was, as you undoubtedly know, careless. And as much as I would like to take that burden from you, you are Harry Potter, and you cannot afford such carelessness like any other teenager could. You are too important, Harry, both to the people who love you and to the wizarding world. Such behaviour cannot go unpunished."

Harry was screaming inside with the unfairness of it all. 

"You will be grounded, as Sirius, as your guardian, has already decided. You will spend today in your room, though you will be allowed to come down to the Great Hall tonight to receive your presents and have your birthday dinner. I hear that the house-elves are preparing all your favourite foods, courtesy of Dobby, I believe. Tomorrow you will stay in your room the whole time doing your homework and hopefully thinking about what you have done. A house-elf will be sent up to bring you food. The day after tomorrow, Sunday, you will stay in your room until Quidditch practice and return here immediately after that- I believe that will be enough punishment. 

"I'm sorry, Harry, I know you feel that your punishment is not fair, and in a way it is not; but you are the Boy-Who-Lived and I must impress upon you the seriousness of what you have done. You could have been killed, Harry. Please accept this."

Harry nodded bitterly.

Sometimes he really hated his life.

~*~

About two hours later, Harry had calmed down enough to finish his Charms essay. It was not up to his usual standards and he knew it, but at the moment he couldn't quite bring himself to care. He could redo it later, after all.  

What had promised to be a wonderful day, his birthday, was turning out to be more miserable than any birthday he had ever spent at the Dursleys'. At least Harry didn't care when they locked him in and ignored him- with Sirius it hurt.

Harry glanced down at his pendant when he heard a reluctant, hesitant knock on his portrait hole. The pendant was red with little bits of black swirling through it. Harry frowned. Snape's letter hadn't said anything about this colour combination.

"Come in," Harry called cautiously, gripping his wand tightly.

The portrait swung aside, and for one terrible moment Harry thought that nobody was going to enter, that the demon had found a way to breach Dumbledore's wards. A second later, though, a foot appeared through the hole and the rest of Sirius soon followed.

Harry and his godfather stared at each other in wary silence for a minute.

Then, Harry felt obliged to break the ice.

"Sirius-" he said just as Sirius said "Harry-"

They broke off and Harry grinned a little. 

"You go first," he said.

Sirius nodded awkwardly and sat down on the edge of Harry's bed cautiously. 

"Harry," he said quietly, "I'm really not great at doing this, but I- I wanted to apologise. You're right; I had no right to shout at you. You've never broken a rule deliberately like we did- and last night was an accident. But I… I was just so worried about you, Harry… I couldn't bear to lose you like Lily and James… you understand that Harry, don't you?"

Harry's heart clenched at the haunted look in Sirius's eyes.

"I let them down, I failed them, Harry… and I don't want to fail you. When I thought you had died, I wanted to die too… and then you showed up again and you were fine and you acted as though nothing had happened when I was worried out of my mind… I lost it Harry, and I'm so sorry- I was just so angry… Harry, say something before I make an even bigger fool of myself, please!"

Harry gave a choked laugh.

"It's ok, Sirius… I understand, I think. I'm just glad you don't hate me."

Sirius paled a few shades and grabbed Harry's shoulders, holding him at arm's length.

"Hate you? Merlin, Harry… did you really think that? I could never hate you- you could join Voldemort and I still wouldn't be able to hate you! I will get mad at you sometimes and yell and punish you, but I will never hate you, kid. God, Harry, I love you… you know that, don't you?"

Sirius's eyes searched Harry's anxiously.

Harry was still feeling strangely choked up. He was squirming in embarrassment feeling very warm inside at the same time. 

Sirius pulled Harry into a tight hug, and Harry hugged back awkwardly.

"You know that, Harry, don't you?" Sirius repeated with more urgency.

"'Course," Harry mumbled into his chest, even as he could feel himself blushing. "Love you too," he added shyly.

Harry was glad when Sirius released him.

"So," he said in an overly-bright voice that he hoped would cover his embarrassment, "Does that mean I'm not grounded anymore?"

Sirius smiled and shook his head.

"Sorry, Harry, what you did was still careless. The punishment stands."

"Ah, damn," said Harry with a sigh- but somehow the prospect of the next few days didn't seem quite as bleak anymore. 

Harry redid his Charms assignment after Sirius had left the room and was quite sure that he had never written a better essay before.

~*~

Several hours later- Harry guessed that it had to be about five o'clock, though he was too lazy to check- there was another knock on the portrait. Harry glanced at his pendant reflexively. It was swirling in rainbow colours. He had to talk to Snape, Harry realised. There were just too many combinations that Harry knew nothing about.

There was another knock.

Harry grabbed his wand again and called, "Come in!"

The portrait swung open and a person Harry had never seen before stepped through. It was a girl; she looked to be about Harry's age. Harry thought that if the girl had stood next to Hermione, the two of them would have been within an inch of the same height- though that was where the similarities ended.

This girl's hair was curly, not frizzy like Hermione's and dark blonde- while her eyes were very dark, so that they seemed almost black. They glittered with the same warmth that shone in Hagrid's eyes, and Harry immediately liked her.

"Hello," said the girl, releasing the portrait and stepping a little closer to the bed. "You must be Harry."

She smiled a little hesitantly and Harry got up quickly. The smile reminded him of someone, as did the girl's nose and her eyebrows…

Harry cast around a little in his head. Dumbledore? No. Sirius? No. Snape? Definitely not… Remus?

Harry scrutinised the girl's face closely and imagined Remus in his mind. Yes, he could see the resemblance. It was in the cheekbones, too. And Harry realised that this had to be-

"Rhianna Lupin?"

The girl nodded and held out her hand.

"It's nice to meet you," she said, as Harry shook her hand. "I've heard a lot about you, you know? Especially last year, when Dad returned from teaching here at Hogwarts. Wouldn't shut up the whole time until I had to return to the LSM- that's my school."

Harry grinned a little awkwardly.

"Yeah, well- your Dad's a really great teacher, you know? He was the best Defence against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had. He even taught me how to produce a Patronus!"

The girl- Rhianna- smiled proudly. Harry noticed that her eyes lit up at the mention of her father.

"Yeah, Dad's great, isn't he? He taught me some magic when I was little- not much, though. He said he didn't want me to become bored at school."

There was a short, awkward silence as both of them cast around for something to say.

"So, um-" said Rhianna, "Dad told me you got into a bit of trouble with your godfather?"

Harry grimaced and invited her to sit on the bed next to him.

"Yeah," he said. "Um- I'm grounded till Sunday."

Rhianna winced sympathetically.

"Ah, bad luck," she sighed ruefully, "You won't be able to attend my birthday dinner. I'll be stuck with all of the old people."

Harry was surprised, to say the least.

"_Your_ birthday dinner? It's your birthday, too?"

"Yes, today," said Rhianna, looking confused. "Why? When's yours?"

"Mine's today, too," admitted Harry. "Remus didn't mention this…"

"No, he didn't tell me either."

There was another short silence, though this time it was not an uncomfortable one.

"How did you manage to get grounded on your birthday? That seems a little harsh," said Rhianna finally, wearing a small frown.

Harry snorted.

"I know. It's all right, though. I really messed up, and besides, I am allowed to attend my- _our_- birthday dinner and get my presents tonight."

"Oh, good," said Rhianna, suddenly looking a lot happier. Harry guessed that she had meant it when she had said that she didn't want to be stuck with the 'old people'. For a moment, Harry wondered why- after all, he had been in this situation for two weeks and it hadn't done him any harm- but then he remembered that Rhianna couldn't possibly know all of the professors. It had to be awkward, dining with your Dad and a bunch of other people who you didn't know but who were destined to become your teachers in a month's time. Harry's musings were cut short by a startled, yet delighted exclamation of Rhianna's.

"Oh, you've got a _Firebolt_! Would you like to come outside and fly?" 

Harry sighed and glanced longingly at his beloved broomstick.

"I can't, remember?" Harry said dully. "I'm grounded for the weekend…"

Rhianna immediately looked contrite.

"I'm sorry, Harry! That was my big mouth again- I always forget to think before I say things. Mum says it's a miracle I haven't gotten into serious trouble yet for that! It's this stupid acting-before-thinking habit- Dad says I'll be in Gryffindor for sure."

Harry grinned a little.

"It's fine. Haven't you been sorted yet?"

"Not yet, no... I'll be sorted tomorrow. Just after breakfast. I hope I won't be in Slytherin."

"You?" Harry asked incredulously. "Why? You don't seem like Slytherin material to me."

Rhianna gave him a small, doubtful smile.

"Harry, do you know what 'LSM' stands for?"

"Um," Harry ventured carefully, "…no?"

Rhianna gave a short, quiet laugh and nodded, seemingly to herself.

"The 'LSM' is an abbreviation for 'Lycanthropes` School of Magic'."

She stopped and watched Harry's reaction expectantly. Not that there was a big one, because Harry merely smiled.

"So you are a werewolf like Remus."

Rhianna looked shocked. She was staring at Harry with eyes so wide that Harry was momentarily afraid that they would pop out of their sockets. 

"Yes... No… I mean, not quite."

At Harry's confused look she added anxiously,  "Yes. I-I'm a werewolf."

"And that's why you're worried that the Sorting Hat will place you in Slytherin? Just because you're a werewolf?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"Well yes," said Rhianna, looking a little embarrassed. "Slytherin is said to be the house of many dark wizards and witches. And werewolves are considered dark creatures by most people and the ministry."  
  


"Your Dad was in Gryffindor, though," Harry pointed out. "I don't think the Sorting Hat cares if you're a werewolf or not. It's all about your character and decisions."

Rhianna smiled uncertainly. 

"I hope so. _You_ don't seem to mind my being a werewolf much, either. Aren't you afraid that I'll eat you or something?"

"No, I'm not," Harry smiled amiably. "I know Remus, and he hasn't eaten me yet. Will you keep this a secret from the other students? Most of the smart ones will figure it out, you know."

It was Rhianna's turn to grimace.

"I know. I won't tell anyone that I am a werewolf, but should they ask, I won't lie."

She looked anxious again.

"I just hope they won't hold it against me."

"I wouldn't worry too much," said Harry, "Your Dad's really popular. Most of them will be really happy that he's come back, werewolf or not. And since you're his daughter… well, I think you'll be fine. Now, if you were Snape's daughter I would be worried…"

"Oh, yes, Snape," said Rhianna, grinning a little. "I met him this morning. He seemed to really… well…"

"Hate you?" Harry suggested with a grin.

"Well, yes," admitted Rhianna, not looking or sounding particularly upset.

"Don't worry," said Harry. "That's Snape for you. He hates almost anyone who's not in Slytherin. And he was enemies with your father and mine. He only got over his hatred of me this summer. I'm sure he'll get used to you, too."

Rhianna grinned. 

"Oh, I'm not worried. I've been hearing stories about Snape all my life. And I'm afraid I pissed him off a little this morning."

Even though Harry found himself liking the surly Potions Mater more and more as the holiday progressed, he couldn't prevent an eager, mischievous grin from forming on his face. 

"What did you do?"

"I swear it was an accident!" Rhianna said quickly, "But- well… blue is my favourite colour, you know? Back at the LSM, our rooms were always painted in our favourite colours. My friends got sick of me moaning on and on about how the walls here at Hogwarts would not be blue, and how I wouldn't be able to survive without that colour… so they got me a really big pot of blue wizarding paint as a joke gift. It will glow in the dark and not come off without the antidote being administered, and even then it will take a few days…

"A few hours ago, I arrived at the Hogwarts gates with the Knight Bus, and Snape was waiting for me because all the other teachers- including my Dad- were busy. To tell the truth, I've always been a little clumsy, so when I exited the Bus I tripped on the stairs and lost control of my trunk… it landed right at Snape's feet and crashed open, and then the pot of blue paint went flying and hit a nearby rock… and, well, Snape got covered from head to toe in blue paint."

Harry roared with laughter. Rhianna seemed to be fighting a grin herself. 

"I tried to apologise to him, really, but then he sneered at me… and…and even his teeth were blue!"

They laughed hysterically for a few minutes. The image of a fuming, blue-coloured Snape was too much for Harry.

"What-what did you do?" Harry gasped out finally.

Rhianna was taking deep breaths herself.

"I managed to apologise to him eventually, though I really don't think he accepted it. I'm afraid I started laughing every time I looked at him. Well, I told him the correct antidote for the paint before he could hex me, and he stormed off to brew it."

She grinned mischievously. "Won't do him much good. The antidote takes at least two days to brew and another two days until the colour starts to fade. I didn't tell him that, though. I didn't fancy ending up as werewolf-steak on my first day here."

Harry grinned and they lapsed into comfortable silence a bit more.

"So," said Harry finally, "There is a school for werewolves?"

Rhianna's eyes seemed to light up again.

"The LSM, yes. My Mum is headmistress there. It's a really brilliant school- a castle, like Hogwarts, only much lighter. Not as magical, though, I think; and definitely not as old. It's more modern- there are more teachers as well. Oh, and the students aren't sorted into different houses, and we all had our own rooms."

"Sounds cool," said Harry sincerely. "So why did you come here, then?"

 "Well, I kind of always wanted to go to Hogwarts," admitted Rhianna a little sheepishly. "Mum's school is great and all, but I've been hearing stories about Hogwarts from Dad since… forever. It drove Mum mad. She said he was corrupting me."

Rhianna grinned mischievously, and Harry found himself smiling back.

"Why didn't you come to Hogwarts in the first place, then?"

"I wasn't allowed," said Rhianna, and her eyes darkened a little. "I'm a born werewolf. I needed to learn control first. Four years is the minimum every born werewolf has to spend at Mum's school before they are allowed to visit normal wizarding schools like Hogwarts or Beauxbatons."

Harry was confused. What did Rhianna mean, a 'born werewolf'? Was there a difference between 'born' and 'bitten' werewolves?

"You don't know the difference?" Rhianna asked, and Harry realised that he must have spoken aloud.

"Well, no," he admitted sheepishly. "Is there a big one?"

Rhianna smiled wryly. "Gigantic," she said. "Bitten werewolves are not affected by their lycanthropy at all unless it is full moon and they are forced to transform. Oh, and their senses might be a little enhanced, especially close to the full moon. Their bodies are strained quite a bit by the monthly transformations, which is why they appear to age more quickly than other people, even though their life expectancy does not diminish any."

She paused for a little while, playing with one of the lianas dangling down from the canopy of Harry's bed absentmindedly. 

"Born werewolves are different," she said quietly. "For us, lycanthropy is a part of our personality. The wolf is not really separate from the human. The transitions are… blurred, if you want to put it that way. The wolf is really more like an Animagus form than anything else to us. We can transform into it at will… and the transformations are not even painful. But we are also very dangerous. We transform into werewolves- real, vicious werewolves- when you push us too much… there is no controlling us. There is no taming us. 

"The Wolfsbane only helps with the transformations at the full moon… yes, we do still have to go through those, and they _are_ painful… but the potion allows us to keep our minds like any bitten werewolf. When we transform voluntarily, we keep our human minds- like I said, the wolf is like an Animagus form. But when we transform out of Rage, we become vicious, untameable monsters. Nothing would stop us…

"Did you know that Aurors are allowed to use Unforgivable Curses on born werewolves in a Rage?"

Harry could feel his eyes widen in horror.

"Oh, don't look so shocked," said Rhianna. "It's the only way. A werewolf in Rage will only stop and transform back if the subject of its Rage is killed or removed from the vicinity permanently. This is the main reason why all born werewolves must go to my Mum's school, myself included.

"We learn to control ourselves, our emotions. Feelings like anger and rage must never be allowed to get out of hand, because they will mean death- either for us or for the idiot who provoked us. And even in the latter case, it would mean the dementor's kiss for us."

Harry shuddered.

"Bloody hell," he whispered, eyeing Rhianna warily. "Er- should I be afraid?"

Rhianna grinned again.

"Don't worry. I'm very good at controlling myself. I would never have been allowed to leave the LSM otherwise."

Harry nodded and glanced at the clock.

"It's already half past six. We should probably get downstairs for dinner now."

"Oh, presents!" said Rhianna and jumped up, all of the previous gloominess forgotten. "Let's hurry! You do know the way, don't you, Harry? I don't think I'd ever find it again; Hogwarts is so big! One of the house elves led me here. Dooby or Dobby, I think. Do you know him?"

~*~

They talked without a break on their way to the great hall. Harry found it astonishingly easy to talk to Rhianna, who, much like Hermione and Ron, was the perfect listener and also knew many hilarious stories about her old school. To Harry, Rhianna seemed like an odd mix of the Weasley twins and her father, which Harry would not have thought possible. It had to be the Marauder genes, Harry thought with a wry grin.

They had reached the great hall in no time and opened the big doors- only to stop short in the doorway. The staff table had been festively decorated with colourful platters and dishes; there were streamers everywhere; cheerful music filled the room, seemingly coming out of nowhere; the Hufflepuff house table had been shrunk a little and was covered in what seemed to be hundreds of presents for both Rhianna and Harry; and there was a big banner floating through the great hall flashing 'Happy 15th Birthday, Harry & Rhianna!' in bright, colourful lettering. Every few seconds, the banner would whistle the appropriate tune shrilly and change colours or release a bout of streamers or sometimes a colourful puff of glitter and smoke.

Only then did Harry realise that they were not alone in the room; in fact, they were being watched by the whole staff of Hogwarts (including a disgruntled, blue-coloured Professor Snape) with no small bit of amusement (well, except for Snape, Harry realised, biting his lip to keep from laughing. He didn't look amused in the least).

A seemingly endless amount of congratulations later, Harry and Rhianna sat down at the table with the Professors. Both received a huge piece of birthday cake and tucked in happily. 

"Dad," said Rhianna, who was sitting next to Harry and across from her father. "Why didn't you tell us that Harry and my birthday are the same day?"

Harry, whose mouth was full of cake, nodded along. Remus just grinned at the two of them.

"I wanted to be able to see your reactions when you found out. And it never really came up."

"Which one of us is older?" Rhianna asked curiously.

"Neither," Remus smiled. "Both of you were born at the exact same time, at four minutes past two in the morning on July 31st, 1980. It was a running joke with the Marauders that you must have done it on purpose- because you, Rhianna, were born two weeks late, and you, Harry, two weeks early. Such cute little babies you were, too."

Harry and Rhianna threw each other a mortified glance.

"Yeah," Sirius said with a grin, having listened to their conversation. "One day when we were walking in the park, an old lady tried to kidnap you, Harry, because you were 'such an adorable, sweet little angel, and his eyes! As green as fresh leaves on a beautiful summer's day!'"  

Harry blushed and tried to sink lower into his chair.

"Yes," Remus chimed in again, a devilish glint in his eyes. "And remember that one time when we went to the muggle swimming pool? We lost Rhianna for a few minutes, but then there seemed to be some kind of commotion on the other side of the pool. There were three muggle women who had found her, we had great trouble getting them to let you go. They were insisting on trying to adopt you. In the end we resorted to magic and Obliviated them."

It was Rhianna's time to blush and sink lower in her chair.

"Oh!" said Minerva delightedly. "I remember once, when I was babysitting Harry, there was this young couple and they saw Harry and said-"

"_Minerva_, could I have another piece of cake, _please_?" Harry interrupted loudly. Rhianna threw him a grateful look, while Minerva mercifully shut up and Sirius and Remus burst out laughing.

However, the 'let's-tease-Harry-and-Rhianna-session' was over.

Not much later, the staff crowded around the two birthday children and the table with presents, and spent the next hour watching the two happy teens opening present after present from friends and family.

Harry got some pasties and self-made biscuits from Mrs. Weasley; a book on the history of the Chudley Cannons from Ron (it was titled '_Let's Cross Our Fingers And Hope For The Best_', which, Harry knew, was the Chudley Cannons' motto); a package of their new inventions from the Weasley twins together with a letter saying thank-you for the generous donation and that they had been able to open a little Joke Shop at 93, Diagon Alley; _Hogwarts: A History_ from Hermione (accompanied by a note threatening Harry to read the book or else); his own set of Quidditch balls from Sirius; _So There's A Dark Lord After You: Everything You Need To Know _from Remus (along with a letter from Dumbledore saying that Harry's training would start the following Monday, which excited Harry); _Transfiguration And Its Uses In Battle_ from Minerva and his very own Pensieve from the rest of the staff.

Harry was a little overwhelmed and didn't know how to thank everyone, but they waved him off with kind smiles. After the present-opening, which had made both Rhianna and Harry very happy, they all sat down at the staff table again and had a wonderful dinner which included all Harry and Rhianna's favourite foods. 

After dinner, they stayed seated and just talked and laughed for hours. At one point of the evening, Professor Dumbledore pulled Harry aside. 

"Harry, my boy," he said solemnly, though the twinkle in his eyes never dimmed, "First of all, happy birthday. I wanted to give you a present as well, but I can't be seen playing favourites, as I'm sure you understand." He winked at Harry and pulled a small, neatly wrapped package from one of the countless pockets of his robes. 

Harry took it cautiously and opened it. Inside, there was a beautiful little figurine of a phoenix, looking so lifelike that Harry almost expected it to fly away any moment. The details of the little phoenix were so fine that Harry could see every single feather on its wings and every single scale on its feet. Harry thought that the figurine looked extraordinarily like Fawkes, only its eyes were different- for while Fawkes's eyes were black like most birds', this little phoenix's eyes were a bright green, like Harry's. The figurine was fastened to a thin, silver chain with an exquisite clasp that looked like two crossed phoenix feathers. Harry couldn't believe that the headmaster would give him something so beautiful and expensive.

"This-" he stuttered, "I- I can't- this is too- this is just- wow…" 

The headmaster chuckled.

"I am glad that you like my gift, Harry," he said gently, "It is not an entirely inconsequential one, I'm afraid."

Harry looked at the wise man questioningly.

"This little phoenix, Harry, might save your life one day," Dumbledore explained. "It is a portkey and will activate as soon as you touch it and say '_Safe Haven_', then it will immediately take you to the Hogwarts Infirmary. However, as it can only be used once, I must ask that you only use it when there is no other way out, only in an extreme emergency. Do you understand, Harry?"

Harry nodded, still speechless after the wonderful gift.

"Now," the Headmaster continued, "I understand that Severus has already given you another pendant this morning, correct?"

Harry nodded and pulled it out of his shirt. Dumbledore examined it closely over the rim of his glasses for a few moments.

"Yes…" he mumbled finally, "Powerful magic… it will do. Could you take the pendant off for me, please, Harry?"

Harry did so and handed it to the headmaster, silently wondering what he was going to do. Dumbledore pulled out his wand and tapped the pendant, making it become a little wider. Then, with another tap of his wand, the leather string disintegrated into nothingness. Harry watched a little anxiously as Dumbledore put both Professor Snape's pendant and the phoenix figurine in the palm of his hand and began to weave complicated patterns around them with his wand, muttering an indistinct stream of Latin under his breath. Slowly, Harry could see where the headmaster was going with this, as the figurine and the pendant merged until the beautiful phoenix was completely encased in the clear stone, which was now fastened to the silver chain. Harry gasped as he saw the end result; it was even more beautiful than the two pendants had been before.

Dumbledore did a few more tests and finally nodded, satisfied, and clasped the charm around Harry's neck.

"You can still use Professor Snape's pendant as you did before," he assured Harry, "and to activate the portkey, you must now touch the stone. Yes, this should work out splendidly."

Harry smiled at the finished charm. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."

The headmaster nodded with a kind smile.

"You are most welcome, dear boy. And now, why don't you run and enjoy your birthday party? It's not everyday that a young man turns fifteen, eh?"

With another wink and his usual congenial smile, the headmaster walked away and started a conversation about plants with Professor Sprout. Harry shook his head. Albus Dumbledore was a strange man, but Harry couldn't imagine life without him.

~*~

A few hours later, it was close to midnight and the professors decided that it was time for everyone to head to bed. Harry and Rhianna wanted to protest, but as they kept yawning in the middle of their complaints, none of the adults took them seriously. 

"To bed with you," Minerva said sternly and herded the two of them out of the hall. "The house elves will take your presents up to your rooms. Go on now, chop-chop."

Sirius and Remus led the two stumbling teens to their rooms. At Merlin's portrait, Harry sleepily said _goodnight_ to Rhianna and Remus and followed Sirius into his room. 

He brushed his teeth quickly and changed into his pyjamas, then he crawled into his bed.

Sirius smiled at him.

"Goodnight then, Harry," he said, bending down and placing a small kiss on Harry's forehead, which made Harry blush again. "Your parents would be very proud of you. So am I."

Harry smiled almost shyly. "Really? You think so?"

"I know so," Sirius corrected with a small smile. "Sleep well."

And he left Harry's room quietly. Only then did Harry notice that the second bed in his room had been removed. He smiled to himself. They trusted him enough that he wouldn't do anything stupid, like running off into the forest without his wand, again.

A few minutes later, when Harry had almost drifted off, there was a quiet knock on his portrait.

"Come in," Harry called softly, wondering who would be visiting him at such a late hour.

The portrait swung open and Remus climbed through the hole.

"Hey," he said softly, sitting down on Harry's bed. "Sorry to keep you awake, but there is something that I must do." He pulled a letter out of one of his pockets. "This letter, Harry, was Owled to me by your Mum, only minutes before she died. I mentioned it in the trial, remember?"

Harry nodded, his eyes glued to the letter and his throat feeling strangely dry.

"I was supposed to give it to you when you turned fifteen, Harry, so… here it is."

Remus handed the letter to Harry hesitantly. On the front, it said in neat letters that reminded Harry very much of Hermione's handwriting:

**To my beloved son, Harry**

Harry gulped. This was a letter _from his mother_. This was a letter from his mother to _him_, _Harry_, written almost fourteen years before, written mere _minutes_ before she had been ruthlessly murdered. These were his mother's last words to him, to her son, to Harry… there was a big lump forming in Harry's throat.

"Do you want me to leave?" Remus asked quietly.

Harry's head snapped up quickly- he had forgotten about Remus's presence in the room. He nodded quickly, dropping his eyes back to the precious parchment.

Remus gave him a kind, sad smile and ruffled his hair. 

"Goodnight, Harry," he said softly and stood to leave the room. As he had reached the portrait, Harry managed to dislodge the lump in his throat a little.

"Remus…!" he called after him, and his friend turned back. "Thanks," Harry said softly.

Remus just smiled and nodded, then he left.

After hearing the soft thud of the portrait closing, Harry turned his attention, yet again, back to his mother's letter. He turned it over. The letter was sealed with red wax. Harry leaned closer to see the design. 

There were two beautifully carved, crossed staffs, the left one had a small shield depicting a lion leaning against it, and the right one a quill with a small inkwell.

Above the staffs there was a beautiful little phoenix and a banner with what seemed to be some kind of motto- Harry had to take off his glasses to decipher it- _Lux Exsurgit_. Harry had to take Latin classes in primary school, so he managed to translate the motto- Lux Exsurgit, Light Arises. 

Harry smiled slightly and opened the letter carefully, trying not to damage the beautiful seal too much. He pulled out apiece of parchment and unfolded it reverently. And then, he saw it… a whole piece of parchment filled with the neat script, to him, Harry.

Harry stared at it for a few minutes, almost not wanting to read it, because then even his mother's last words would be gone… Harry took a deep breath, smoothed out the perfectly smooth parchment carefully and began to read.

_'My dearest Son,_

_Oh Harry, how I wish you didn't have to read this… because it will mean that both James and I are gone and cannot watch over you any longer, my poor little boy. I gave this letter to Remus in the hope that it was really just a precaution, that you would never have to read it, that I, or James, would be able to tell you all of this ourselves in due time…_

_Alas, it was not to be. I am sorry, Harry, my little baby boy, that we had to leave you. I hope that you have led a good life even without us. Has Sirius been taking good care of you? If he hasn't, hex him for me, will you, Harry?_

_Well, Happy Birthday, I suppose. You're fifteen now and all grown up- as I am watching you sleep as I am writing this, I can hardly believe it. I want you to know that I am proud of you, Harry, no matter what you decide to do later in your life._

_I have so many questions now, Harry… are you happy? Who are your friends? Which house are you in? Are you playing Quidditch, like James? Do you like to study? Sorry, that was a stupid question… you're so much like James, I know you don't. Oh, Harry, I wish I had been able to watch you grow up…_

_…but let me tell you the point of this letter. Last night, I had a dream, a vision… a premonition, if you believe in them. I know that true Seers are very rare, and I am not saying that I am one… but I do get flashes of the future sometimes, as do most witches and wizards with our eye colour. I suspect that you have the gift too, my beloved son, since your eyes are just like mine. If you do, you should be experiencing your first visions soon._

_As I am sure you have been told by now, Harry, you are the heir of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Merlin. And since you are reading this letter, it must mean that you have come into your powers._

_But I am sidetracking, excuse me. There is just too much I want to say to you, knowing that you will never even remember us… yes, Harry, I foresaw our deaths. These visions are not always accurate, as human minds are not always predictable. But something tells me that this particular premonition will come true… that this is no nightmare, no hoax._

_Harry, my beloved baby, we have made a terrible mistake. I assume that Albus has told you about the Prophecy by now? If not, show him the letter and ask him about it… tell him I said to tell you._

_Since we knew that you were in danger, we decided to perform the Fidelius Charm. This is very complex magic, Harry, too complex to explain in a letter… let me just tell you that it is one of the most powerful Protection Charms in existence. One person acts as the Secret Keeper for those who want to go into hiding… unless that person reveals the secret, the people can't be found or touched._

_James and I originally wanted Sirius to be our Secret Keeper, but Sirius didn't like the plan… he thought that it was too obvious, everybody knew about James and his friendship. So we switched Secret Keepers at the last possible minute, Harry… we never even told Dumbledore. Or Remus._

_I feel that this mistake will be our downfall, my son. Peter Pettigrew is now our Secret Keeper, yet I find myself not trusting the rat. Peter has always been a coward, and he accepted just a little too easily, too quickly. He has been acting strangely all year, yet James doesn't want to listen… he refuses to see what I'm afraid I know for sure now, that Peter is a spy for Voldemort._

_James suspects Remus, since he thinks that Peter is simply too much of a coward to change sides. I know he is wrong. Remus, bless him, would never betray us to the dark side, despite his being a werewolf. Never judge a book by its cover, Harry. Remus is one of the kindest people you will ever meet… you do know him, don't you? Yes, of course you do, or you wouldn't be reading this letter._

_Last night, I had a dream in which Peter betrayed us to Voldemort. He came to Godric's Hollow on the evening of the 31st of October, which is today, in exactly one hour's time. I tried to talk to James about this, but he wouldn't listen. James does not believe in Divination and he refuses to imagine that Peter could betrayed us._

_Maybe I am wrong; Son… maybe James and I will live through the night. But I doubt it strongly. I am so sorry that we will have to leave you… I hope that you will be well cared for in Sirius's home. He may be a little careless sometimes, but I trust him with my- and your- life._

_Harry, there are more things that you must know. As you have reached your fifteenth birthday, you have come into your powers. You must train, Harry, and quickly. You, my beloved Son, are the only one who can defeat Voldemort. It is your destiny._

_The most important skills that you should train are wandless magic and elemental magic. Ask Albus or Remus, they will be able to tell you what that is. You should also practice your Occlumency… Voldemort is a very strong Legilimens, Harry, and there is no saying what could happen if he managed to break into your mind._

_Chose your friends carefully. I see dark times ahead of you, times of hardship and battle. Oh, my poor little boy, how I wish I could be there for you… and yet, it is not to be._

_Train, Harry. Learn as much as you can. Voldemort is a formidable enemy, I should know, I have faced him three times. You must hone your skills as quickly as possible. Ask Albus for training, he will help you, if he hasn't already._

_You also shouldn't be alarmed when you start going through rapid changes- both physically and emotionally. They are part of your power enhancement and may appear randomly._

_Be safe, my poor baby… I wish I could take this burden from you, I wish this didn't have to happen to you, and most of all I wish that I could be there for you._

_Only seventeen minutes left now…_

_Never fear, my boy. I will never truly leave you, and I will be watching over you no matter where I am. I love you, Harry, and so does James._

_Never forget that._

_With all my love,_

_Your Mum,_

_Lily Evans-Potter'_

Harry lowered the letter and stared out of the dark window. Seventeen minutes. Seventeen minutes before Voldemort had attacked, before…

Harry placed the letter gently on his bedside table and lay back, snuggling under the covers. Those two words seemed to echo in his mind ominously. '_Seventeen minutes… seventeen minutes… seventeen minutes…_'

Harry wiped his eyes with his sleeve, feeling very lost and alone.

There was a soft knock on his portrait.

"Yes?" Harry asked hoarsely.

The portrait swung open slowly, and Remus stepped through hesitantly.

"Sorry about disturbing you again," he said with an uncertain smile. "I just wanted to make sure that you were all right."

Harry smiled a little and patted the bed next to him. Remus released the portrait and sat down, glancing briefly at the letter on Harry's bedside table.

"Go on," Harry said softly. "I don't mind. Read it."

"Are you sure Harry?" Remus asked seriously. "This is very private, the only letter she ever wrote to you…"

Harry waved his hand impatiently. 

"Read," he said decisively. "You kept the letter for me for almost fourteen years. You have a right to know what it says."

Without further protest, Remus took the letter and read it quickly. Harry watched as different emotions flitted across his face: sorrow, amusement, anger, embarrassment, horror, and finally grief.

"Thank you, Harry," Remus said quietly and put the letter back. "This was very personal. Just… thank you:"

"She sounded… nice." Harry's voice broke a little, and Remus smiled faintly.

"Oh, she was," he mumbled, seemingly to himself. "She definitely was one of the nicest people I have ever met… and you are so much like her. Strong, stubborn, brave, sweet… she would have been proud of you, Harry. James, too."

"Even when I run off into the Forbidden Forest without my wand?"

Remus laughed and punched Harry gently in the arm.

"Even then. And now you should really go to sleep, it is past one o'clock in the morning- I hope you've enjoyed your birthday, despite everything."

Harry smiled tiredly and yawned.

"Def-definitely," he grinned, "It was the best birthday ever. Despite everything."

Remus smiled and stood up to take his leave. He got as far as the portrait hole before Harry's voice caused him to turn around again.

"Remus?" Harry asked with his best innocent expression. "Am I still grounded?"

Remus laughed, conjured up a pillow and threw it at Harry.

"Go to sleep."

And that's exactly what Harry did.  

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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A/N: Tada!!! Another chapter… and it's a long one. 

I've got a few **_important_** news: If you ever want to know how much of a new chapter I've already written or which story I am currently writing on, look at my profile- I will keep it updated.

Also, I've decided to start one of those countless Yahoo!Groups… You can find the link in my profile. I will notify you whenever I update either one of my stories and you can discuss them with me if you want. 

And now, **_please review_**!!!!!

Thanks to all those people who reviewed the last chapter! (As review answers are no longer permitted due to the new dialogue/message board regulation, I won't be answering reviews anymore in the end of chapters. Sorry, everyone! If you have questions or want to discuss my stories with me, please email me or join my Yahoo!Group. You will find both in my profile.)

Until next time!

Felinity ^_^


	13. Chapter 13: The Last Weeks of Holiday

**Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers**

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own any characters, places, objects etc. associated with Harry Potter! They all belong exclusively to the brilliant JK Rowling. I do own the plot and Rhianna Lupin as well as certain other minor characters.

**A/N:** Yes, I know, after all this time- here's the new chapter! I apologize for the long wait (more detailed info can be found at my Yahoo!group, the link is on my profile page). Hopefully, I'll be able to write faster in the future! And now, without anymore rambling on my part, on with the story!

This is an **unbetaed **version. The betaed chapter will be up as soon as my beta reader finds the time to check it over.

_**

* * *

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_**Chapter 13:**_

**The Last Weeks of Holiday**

* * *

"No, no, no, Harry! You're still doing it wrong!"

Harry gritted his teeth as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He loved his godfather, he really did, but right now, he felt an almost insurmountable urge to strangle him.

"_What_?" he ground out. "What's wrong _now_?"

They had been at it for almost two hours. After the stressful weekend of his birthday, his first fight with Sirius, getting to know Rhianna Lupin, being confined to his room for the majority of the day and finally a gruesome Quidditch session, Harry could really have used some rest… alas, it was not to be. After having shown his Mum's letter to Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster had decided that Harry was in need of immediate, thorough training. So thorough, in fact, that Harry could feel his muscles aching in places where he hadn't even known he had any.

It had been a week since the fiasco involving the Forbidden Forest and the start of Harry's training, and Harry's new Professors still weren't willing to let up a little. At the moment, Harry was attending another fruitless lesson with Professor Sirius Black, who was supposed to teach Harry all there was to know about Mind Magic.

Harry's task was to move a small Sickle Sirius had placed in front of him- with his thoughts. Harry would have been able to move the Sickle quite effortlessly with his hands. He would have been able to move it with a normal spell, too. Even Harry's wandless magic was coming along nicely and wouldn't have posed a problem… but Harry was not allowed to point his hand at the Sickle. His hands were, to 'stave off temptation', tied behind his back quite firmly.

This fact alone was almost enough to cause a panic attack for Harry. He hated being restricted in any way, as it reminded him uncomfortably of his time spent with the Dursleys.

"Concentrate, Harry!" Sirius cried jovially. "Come on, kid, it's not that hard. You just concentrate on the Sickle and make it move with your thoughts, go on! Intent is enough, Harry. You were doing fine with the feather, a Sickle isn't that much heavier. It's really quite simple, Harry, just concentrate hard and-"

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK I'M DOING!" Harry exploded finally. "IT'S ALWAYS 'CONCENTRATE, HARRY! CONCENTRATE!' YOU'D THINK I WAS DOING ANYTHING _BUT_ THE WAY YOU'RE GOING ON ABOUT IT, SIRIUS! I AM CONCENTRATING! I _AM_! IT'S JUST _NOT WORKING_!"

Sirius was staring at him in shock. "Harry," he said in a completely baffled voice that only served to rile Harry up even more. "If you needed a break, you could have said so! I didn't think these lessons were tiring you out so much…"

Harry counted backwards from ten. "Sirius," he said very calmly, "Release me. Now."

Sirius flicked his wand obediently and Harry got up, massaging his wrists where he had pressed them into his bonds in frustration.

"You can take a small break, Harry," Sirius smiled, putting his wand away. "That's fine. Go walk around the lake for a few minutes or get yourself a snack from the kitchens. We're not done for the day, though."

Harry whipped out his own wand, pointed it at the Sickle and made it explode with a small, well-practiced flick. He ignored the renewed gaping expression on his godfather's face and turned on his heels.

"No, Sirius. We _are_ done."

Harry was still fuming when he reached his portrait hole a few minutes later. He ignored the young Merlin's demands for his password and just snapped his hand to the left, causing the portrait to fly open with an indignant squawk.

He threw himself down on his bed and breathed in the fresh, clean scent for a moment, allowing the familiarity to comfort him.

"Rough day?" Harry raised his head and turned around. Rhianna, who had been unceremoniously sorted into Ravenclaw the morning after her and Harry's birthday, was sitting in a chair in the opposite corner of the room with an enormous book propped on her knees, eyeing him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

Harry snorted and propped his head up on an elbow. Over the past week, he and Rhianna had become quite close. It might have to do with the fact that they were the only teenagers in the castle, or that they had hit it off right from the start, or that they were both Marauders' children and felt connected by their parents' past, but most of the professors already viewed them as inseparable… unless Harry had to go to one of his frequent lessons, that is.

"I thought you wouldn't be done for another hour, actually," Rhianna continued happily, "All the better for me. It really does get quite boring, reading all day, since Dad's always on 'business' for the Order."

Harry snorted derisively. "You've no idea," he mumbled into his pillow. "Sirius managed to make me explode again. I walked out on him."

"Ah," Rhianna said sympathetically, "One of those days. What did he try to make you do this time? Levitate the castle wandlessly? Conjure up a storm big enough to destroy the Quidditch Pitch?"

Harry grinned despite himself. Rhianna always managed to make him laugh, and a few of Sirius's more ridiculous tasks really had come quite close to her descriptions. "He wanted me to move a Sickle with my thoughts."

Rhianna raised an eyebrow. "That sounds- well- almost manageable, Harry," she commented cautiously, apparently not wanting to be on the receiving end of one of Harry's infamous tempers. They had been increasing in frequency over the past week, the harsher the demands Harry's professors placed on him became.

Harry raked a hand through his hair. "I_ know_," he ground out, "I know. I did fine when it came to moving the feather. I had no problems with the piece of parchment, the button and the Knut. But this… this is just… I don't _know_!"

Harry turned to look out of the window moodily. "It shouldn't be so hard," he conceded. "Sirius isn't really pushing me to my limits right now. I've had to perform more difficult tasks over this past week, tasks requiring more concentration and magic. I've no idea why this is just… _impossible_!"

"You're overtired," Rhianna observed as she put her book aside carefully and joined Harry on the bed. "They're wearing you out. You should really try talking to them, Harry. I'm sure my Dad would love to listen. Training is one thing, but _this_ can't be healthy."

Harry shrugged listlessly, knowing that she was probably right.

"It's just," he mumbled miserably, "that I feel like I'm letting them down. I'm supposed to be the strongest wizard of all times! I'm supposed to be powerful enough to defeat Voldemort, damnit! And I can't even manage to Levitate a Sickle with my mind…"

"Well, Voldemort isn't a Sickle, and you won't defeat him by Levitating a Sickle in front of him," Rhianna said dismissively. "Don't worry so much, Harry. You'll do fine when the time comes. You just need to relax a little right now."

Harry sighed and crossed his arms behind his head. "I can't. I have to finish reading that book on Fire Magic Minerva assigned me tonight."

Rhianna huffed impatiently. "Can't you do that tomorrow? I thought you only had lessons in Elemental Magic every three days, and your last lesson was yesterday. You shouldn't have another lesson tomorrow and I know you're almost done reading. Just postpone it a little!"

"Can't," Harry grumbled. "Quidditch."

The next morning, the first thing Harry noticed upon entering the Great Hall were excited mutterings all around the staff table. He walked up to his usual seat, this time between Sirius and Remus, and helped himself to some toast and marmalade.

"What's up?" he asked the two men after exchanging 'good mornings' with them.

"The inquiries from the ministry have been completed," Sirius muttered, "the ones about the Deatheaters you named at my trial. Malfoy, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Macnair… their houses have been searched and their arms checked for the dark mark; then they were questioned under Veritaserum. They were sentenced to Azkaban, though it was kept under wraps. Malfoy has a lot of friends in high places."

By that night, Harry was completely worn out. John Skillridge, the coach, had really put them through their paces. They had started off by running fifteen laps around the Quidditch Pitch and then proceeded to a kind of physical exercise obstacle course Mr Skillridge had conjured for them. It had reminded Harry a little of a muggle film he had watched once about the muggle army. In the beginning, Harry had thought that their task was fun, yet after being forced to go through it again and again and again… Harry didn't think he had ever felt so tired and sore.

His small height and young age had proven to be a huge disadvantage that day, making Harry feel very uncertain about the decision he had made. Should he have refused Mr Skillridge's offer? Was he really up to professional Quidditch training and school, along with the extracurricular training he needed to gain control of his powers?

Self doubts gnawed at Harry's insides and no amount of persuasion from Rhianna's side would make them recede. It didn't help that the date of his first ever international Quidditch match was looming closer every day and that he was going to have to play against Victor Krum, of all people.

That night, Harry fell asleep with uneasiness churning in his stomach…

"_Rodolphus," Voldemort hissed, "What have you to report about the werewolves?"_

_The black heap in front of Voldemort quivered pitifully._

"_My Lord," Lestrange trembled, "I have news, yet they are not good ones…"_

_There was a brief, deadly silence. The flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows along the walls and made the Deatheaters' white, skull-like masks stand out in stark relief. _

"_What are you saying, Lestrange?" Fury had entered Voldemort's voice and the long, pale fingers clutched his wand more tightly. "Are you telling me that you have…failed?"_

"_My Lord," Lestrange gasped, "I am truly sorry… I beg your forgiveness, My Lord… Dumbledore got to them first, he used his pet werewolf as a messenger-"_

"_Crucio!" Voldemort bellowed angrily. "Rodolphus, you fool! Dumbledore's forces are doubling every day, and you lose me some of my most powerful allies? I do not tolerate failure! Crucio!"_

_Lestrange let out a loud howl as the second curse hit him. Voldemort regarded him indifferently. _

"_Something must happen… something must be done, soon… I can't allow the Light Side to take over like this… maybe it is time for a little reminder… it seems they have forgotten who Lord Voldemort is…"_

_Insane laughter echoed through the room as Harry's awareness spiralled away from the snake-like man on the throne and his writhing, screaming servant. _

Harry jerked awake, his heart pounding wildly. The laughter still rang inside his head and his head throbbed a little from the pain of that second Cruciatus Curse. Harry rubbed his scar absent-mindedly. It hurt less than Harry would have expected, especially considering that Lestrange had just been hit with two simultaneous curses. Harry had hardly felt the first one, and even the second one had left him astonishingly alert.

The portrait hole opened quickly and Harry looked up, watching as his godfather entered the room and crossed it to sit on the bed next to Harry.

"Are you all right?" Sirius asked worriedly, searching Harry's face with his eyes. "Is your head hurting? Your scar is not bleeding this time, is it?"

"I'm fine," Harry smiled a little. It was nice to know that Sirius cared. "So, um, you all saw that dream?"

"Of course," said Sirius. "It was Voldemort-related. I noticed that the pain from the curses wasn't as intense this time."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, leaning on Sirius cautiously as he sat back against the headboard next to Harry. "Maybe our connection has weakened, now that I've got my powers?"

Sirius nodded absent-mindedly. "Most likely. Dumbledore did say that Voldemort wouldn't be able to send you visions anymore after your birthday. You're more powerful than him now, Harry, don't forget that. Even though you cannot access most of your powers yet."

Harry heaved an annoyed sigh.

"Any ideas why you had such trouble with that spell tonight?" Sirius asked carefully. He sounded almost wary and Harry felt a little guilty for exploding into Sirius's face like he had.

"Rhianna thinks you're overtaxing me," he mumbled with a shrug. "I dunno, really. I guess I have been very tired lately, what with Quidditch practices and all."

Sirius frowned. "She's right, of course. We have been placing a terrible amount of pressure on you this past week. But you must understand that you are very vulnerable right now, Harry. Your powers have been unlocked, yet you have no idea how to use them. Your mind and body are still dealing with the power surge you received, which is another reason why you have been feeling so tired and irritable lately. Your subconscious mind recognises your weakness and your proneness to manipulation."

Harry frowned. "Proneness to manipulation? What is that supposed to mean?" It was definitely a new one. Sirius was silent for a while, frowning darkly at the stag that chose this particular moment to sick its head through the wall and nip Sirius's robes.

"Albus was against telling you this, so bear with me, please, and don't let on immediately that you know. However, I think it is necessary for you to understand why your training is essential right now, so listen carefully."

Sirius's voice was quiet and intense as his hands grabbed Harry's urgently. "Should you fall into the enemy's hands right now, the consequences might be dire. As your mind struggles to get a hold of your new magic, its defences have weakened considerably. Were Voldemort to attack you now, he would not have a hard time converting you to his side. Do you understand now why we have been pushing you so hard, Harry? Using these powers will help you adjust to them. And that you adjust is crucial, for both your sake and the sake of the wizarding world."

Harry shivered. "Do you think I made a mistake, accepting Mr Skillridge's offer?" He asked quietly, not liking how small his voice sounded. "Am I placing myself in harm's way unnecessarily? Am I risking the fate of the wizarding world?"

"Who told you that?" Sirius seemed honestly upset. "Harry, you have every right in the world to have fun. Quidditch is something you like and you're good at… of course you made the right choice!"

Harry averted his eyes.

"Harry, did something happen today at Quidditch practice? Did one of the other players say something to you?"

"No," Harry sighed, "It's stupid. We had an obstacle course tonight, that's all. It was just hard."

Sirius sighed as well and raked a hand through his hair. "Harry. Of course you will have trouble keeping up with the other players in physical exercise. You're only fifteen, after all, and probably a good bit shorter than most, if not all of them. Besides, they have been training every single day for years, while you only started training a few weeks ago, missed most of the practices and don't even have training every day. There is no way for you to be as strong as them."

Harry stayed silent.

"If it comforts you, I think you've been growing, Harry."

This certainly caught Harry's attention. "I have? You think so?"

"It's hard to tell, with these charms Minerva placed on your clothes. But I think if you tried on one of your old school robes from last year, you'd be surprised. You will probably continue growing for a while, until your body has readjusted to your power level."

Harry grinned at that. It would be nice, not being the shortest boy in their year anymore. And the look on Ron's face would be priceless.

"Now, that's better, isn't it?" Sirius said smugly, having seen Harry's smile.

Harry threw a pillow at his guardian, which Sirius promptly tossed back.

"I see you're feeling better," he remarked dryly. "Goodnight, Kiddo." Sirius ruffled Harry's hair. "Pleasant dreams, for once."

Harry smiled and allowed himself to be tucked in.

"G'night, Dad," he whispered as the portrait hole fell shut. He had no more nightmares that night.

The next day brought with it another gruelling training session, this time in duelling with Professors Snape and Flitwick. No matter how hard Harry tried, he could not match the two of them. Every time he thought he had finally managed to corner one of them, they came up with another trick and Harry found himself disarmed and flat on his back in less than a second.

It was extremely frustrating and didn't help his already-strained-from-Quidditch muscles. After two hours of constant hits and falls, Harry was sure that his entire body was black and blue. He ached all over and longed to stay exactly where he was for at least another week, on his back on the hard mat that covered the floor of the room they were using as a duelling area…

"Come on, Harry!" Sirius's voice penetrated his daze cheerfully, "Get up! We've just got time for a late lunch, then Mr Skillridge will be here to collect you!"

"No…" Harry moaned, even as he felt Sirius seizing his hand and pulling him to his feet. "Sirius, I can't…" It came out more as a whine than anything else.

"Nonsense," said Sirius cheerfully, "You'll be fine. A little flying will do you good."

Sirius dragged Harry all the way to the Great Hall and to his seat at the staff table. Rhianna was already there and eyed him critically.

"You look terrible," she said matter-of-factly.

"Gee, thanks," Harry mumbled darkly as he helped himself to some mashed potatoes.

Mr Skillridge collected him not long after lunch.

Harry was quiet on their way through the Quidditch Stadium, thinking again about the doubts that had recently awoken in him considering his decision of joining the team. As they had walked the whole way to the Apparating room in silence, Harry noticed that Mr Skillridge was throwing puzzled glances his way.

"Is there anything that concerns you, Harry?" he asked candidly. "Something to do with Quidditch, perhaps?"

Harry scuffed the floor with his left shoe nervously and tried to look anywhere in the room but at his coach.

"Nothing," he lied quickly, "there's nothing. I'm fine. I'm- I'm going to change now." And before his coach could utter another word, Harry quickly crossed the room and made for his only refuge in the stadium. Each of the players had a bedroom of their own, in case a Quidditch match ever went on for so long that players had to sleep for a few hours to recuperate their strength.

Harry's room was quite nice, in his opinion. He had decided to leave the furniture and decoration as it was, only adding a few trinkets he had no real use for that he had collected over his years in the wizarding world. It added a personal touch to the room without changing it completely, which, even though Mr Skillridge and the other players had encouraged him, he felt not comfortable doing yet, especially in light of his recent quandary.

Harry sighed as he put his backpack- containing just a small water bottle and a few muffins Dobby had slipped him after lunch- down on his bed and retrieved his Quidditch training robes from the small wardrobe on the far wall. The wardrobe had sanitising charms placed on it, which saved the players the trouble of Scourgifying their robes after every practice. They were crisp and clean after a few moments in the wardrobe.

Even though Harry usually changed in the changing room with the other players, he didn't feel like answering their questions about the undoubtedly countless scrapes and bruises that marred his body.

Mr Skillridge threw him a confused glance as he exited his room in full Quidditch gear, but he didn't comment on it. He merely raised his eyebrows at the two inches of bare ankle that showed below the hem of Harry's robes.

"Harry, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you'd grown again. Since yesterday." He tapped his wand on Harry's robes and watched as they expanded to fit Harry's new height. "I've never seen anything of the like," he commented idly, "true, we've not had many teenaged players on the team, but I'm quite sure that this is unnatural."

Harry bit back a grin and mumbled something non-committal. He was saved from further questions by the arrival of the first player, Alex, the Keeper.

Quidditch practice that day was almost as gruesome as it had been the day before, at least in Harry's opinion. In actuality, it was a rather light practice, taking into account the training of the day before. However, to Harry's battered form it seemed like pure torture. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally allowed to mount their brooms, putting an end to the strenuous physical exercise training. That day, practice was devoted to Chaser training, which Harry didn't mind too much.

Harry could tell by the pleased look in his coach's eyes that the team was doing really well. Maybe they would actually stand a chance in this year's World Cup? They should at least be able to get farther than the year before. It relieved Harry a little that with the team's achievements of the year before, the wizarding community's expectations were rather low, though Harry expected that this would change after the public learned the identity of England's new Seeker.

After practice that day, Mr Skillridge Portkeyed with Harry back to Hogsmeade. They started on the long way back to the castle in silence.

"Harry," Mr Skillridge said after a few minutes, stopping abruptly and preventing Harry from continuing with a hand on his arm. "I have a feeling that something is seriously bothering you. If it is in any way related to the team or your performance on the team, I must ask that you please talk to me. As your coach, it is part of my responsibilities to make sure that you are comfortable. Please talk to me, Harry."

Harry stared into Mr Skillridge's almost pleading eyes for a moment, struck again by how much they resembled Dumbledore's. He didn't want to tell his coach what he was thinking. Harry felt terrible about his doubts and really didn't want to let Mr. Skillridge down.

"It's just," he confessed hesitantly, "that- things- are very difficult right now at Hogwarts. I'm receiving lots of training because of, you know, Voldemort and, er, stuff. And Quidditch is really strenuous on top of that."

"You are having doubts about your decision of joining the team," Mr Skillridge deduced razor-sharply.

"Kind of," Harry admitted, though he had to look away.

Mr Skillridge heaved a sigh.

"Harry," he said seriously, "I cannot keep you on the team if you do not wish to stay. I do remember how stressful it is for students to play professional Quidditch along with going to school or, in your case, receiving extra training _and_ going to school. However, I beg you not to leave. The team is playing better than it has in years. The other players are motivated because of your skill, and I know we finally stand a chance in the World Cup again. To leave now… to give up at this point…" Mr Skillridge sighed. "It would mean destroying a lot of hard work, Harry. I don't mean to pressure you unduly, but I refuse to let you quit now."

Harry looked away again.

"Let's make a deal, all right?" Mr Skillridge said seriously. "You stay on the team for the rest of the holidays and the first few weeks of school, until our first Quidditch game against Bulgaria. After that, if you still feel that it is too much stress, I will allow you to quit the team, no strings attached. We do have a reserve team training separately from the first team. The Seeker is not much, but…" Mr Skillridge shrugged helplessly. "I do wish for you to remain on the team very much, Harry. If you must leave, you must leave, but please consider this carefully. We would all hate to lose you."

After an encouraging pat on Harry's shoulder, Mr Skillridge set off towards Hogwarts again, and Harry fell into a comfortable pace beside him. Even though they hadn't found a solution to his problems, Harry somehow felt a little lighter.

In the Entrance Hall, Harry bid Mr Skillridge 'goodbye' and the coach used his one-way-portkey back to the stadium.

As Harry stood silently in the middle of the deserted, dark hall, he felt a strange nagging at the back of his mind, as though he had forgotten something essential. Something was definitely wrong, he could clearly sense it.

'Sirius? Remus? Minerva?' Harry said in his mind. He wondered for a second if his telepathic bond to the other Order members was still active.

'Harry?' It was Sirius. 'Where are you?'

'I'm in the Entrance Hall, I just got back from training.'

'Come up to Dumbledore's office, we're having an Order meeting.'

An Order meeting! Harry felt excitement surge through him, along with a little worry. What had happened that was so important that it required a meeting?

'I'm coming up,' Harry assured quickly and set off. The strange, prickling feeling in the back of his mind had not yet subsided, and it screamed of danger. Harry quickened his pace until he was almost running, knowing the way by heart. Up the marble stairs, left, right, right, left again, up a staircase, through a little known secret passage on the left, up another staircase… which promptly moved to change directions. Harry cursed under his breath and stepped off the staircase before it could transport him to another wrong landing.

He stood there for a minute, trying to think of the best way to get to Dumbledore's office, when the feeling at the back of his mind intensified. Harry slowly moved backwards until he was standing with his back to the wall, wand at the ready. And just as the torches along the corridor began to flicker ominously before dying down completely, Harry remembered just why he was supposed to be afraid. He was such an idiot. The demon had found him.

"Lumos!" Harry hissed, trying to pierce the absolute darkness with his eyes. "_Lumos_, damnit!"

But the spell didn't want to work. Harry didn't know how that was possible, but something made magic impossible around Slytherin's spirit. Or was it just his wand…?

Harry tucked the wand away, hating how defenceless this made him feel. He stretched his hand out in front of him and concentrated as deeply as he could, just like Dumbledore had taught him. _"Lumos."_

He said the spell with silent force and was surprised to see a small, weak light flickering to life at his fingertips. It was nowhere near his usual strength, but it would have to do. Harry raised his hand above his head and tried to make the light shine as far and as strongly as possible by pushing more energy into it.

"Well, well, well," A slimy voice suddenly hissed beside Harry, "what have we here? Harry Potter has come into his powers? My heir will not be pleased to hear this…"

Harry whirled to face the voice, yet in the semi-darkness there was not even an outline visible.

"Such a pity, really," said the voice, coming from behind Harry. He whirled around again. "I had hoped that the prophecy was fake, after seeing just how weak you were when we first met…"

Harry could feel his blood boil. The light at his fingertips suddenly flared. "I am not weak!" he hissed angrily. "But _you_ are! You're so pathetic, you can't even show yourself!"

The voice chuckled lowly, drifting around Harry. He followed it wildly with his eyes and hand, as well as he could. "What a low blow, little Harry," it sneered, "why, I _do_ believe I have a solution to your problem. I could possess you, if you like…?"

"_Don't you dare_," snarled Harry. The light at his fingertips flared again and formed itself into a warm, bright ball. Harry was quite sure he heard a pained hiss in front of him.

"Douse that light, will you, little boy?" the voice came again, this time sounding slightly strained.

"No, I don't think I shall," Harry said coolly, thinking quickly. "That's it, isn't it? You always attack at night or when it's dark somewhere, and torches extinguish themselves whenever you approach… you can't bear the light, can you?"

"Nonsense," hissed the voice calmly. "I admit, the light is a little hard on my eyes, but that doesn't mean that I can't bear it."

"Is that so?" Harry asked calmly, feeling triumph rise within himself. "Well, then, you won't mind if I make the light just a little… _brighter_?" And with the last word, Harry pushed as much of his energy as he could reach into the little ball, making it swell until it was the size of a Quaffle. Then he threw the ball with all his might in the direction of Slytherin's voice. There was a slight hiss when the ball of light hit, then it was absorbed into nothingness.

"That tickled," the voice complained haughtily.

Harry stared in disbelief at the empty space where his formidable weapon had disappeared. No, it was not possible. Slytherin couldn't bear the light, he knew it, so why had he barely reacted to Harry's light? He had been afraid of it when it had been in Harry's hand, so why hadn't it affected him at all? He was defenceless…

As if Slytherin had heard his last thought, Harry found himself pinned to the wall by an invisible force. He struggled wildly to get free, but he couldn't move an inch.

"Lumos… _Lumos!_" Harry shouted desperately, but nothing happened. He had exhausted himself throwing that ball of pure energy at the demon, and now he could barely find the strength to shout, let alone perform strenuous thought-magic.

"I think it is time to stop playing, little boy," Slytherin hissed in Harry's ear. He was very close and Harry shivered. He tried to gather the energy to call the Order with his mind, and found to his horror that he couldn't even muster that. "I need something of yours, now. Something only you can give me. I think I have lingered in this place long enough, and now I feel a strong desire to _leave_…"

"You can't leave," Harry gasped, as he was enveloped in a horrible, cold sensation. "You are bound to this place! Dumbledore said so, you said so yourself!"

Slimy, cold hands seemed to run over Harry's body and he shuddered in revulsion. "What are you doing?" It came out as a squeak.

"Trying to ascertain whether you will be suitable for my needs…" the demon hissed. "Yes… this will work…" And suddenly, there was a sharp pain in the crook of Harry's elbow, right where Pettigrew had cut him in the graveyard. Warm blood started to flow from the wound and icy lips descended upon it. Harry gagged as the coldness seemed to seep through the wound and into his bloodstream. There was a nauseating sucking sensation, then the lips and coldness retreated.

"Wh-what did you do that for?" Harry whispered, his teeth chattering with the cold and disgust.

The demon laughed eerily. "This, little Harry, was my ticket out of here."

"What do you mean?" The coldness retreated further and Harry found the strength to stand on his own legs again instead of hanging limply in the invisible restraints.

"Nosy, aren't you?" Slytherin hissed with what seemed to be amusement. "I like your insolence, boy. If circumstances were different, I think I should have liked you to be in my house. As it is…" he gave a long-suffering sigh. "My heir has a… special… bond to me, ever since I possessed him when he was still a child. As it turns out, you have a bond to him as well…"

It was weird listening to a disembodied voice that was moving from the left to the right and back again in front of Harry. Apparently, Slytherin was pacing.

"It took me ridiculously long to figure this out," Slytherin admitted with scorn in his voice. "By drinking your blood, I renewed the bond I already had to my heir and at the same time, created a bond to you. This will mean two things; firstly, I can now go wherever my heir goes if I want to leave this place, which will be extremely useful for both of us, as I'm sure you will agree…"

Slytherin's voice came to a stop in front of Harry and he had the uncomfortable feeling that Slytherin was _looking_ at him.

"… and secondly, it will allow me a controlling influence over you, now that my heir's powers alone aren't enough to penetrate your defences. Actually, I am not quite sure whether our combined mental powers are enough, but it is certainly worth a try, wouldn't you say so, little Potter?"

Harry shivered. "So, what now?" he spat. "Are you going to kill me?"

Laughter drifted slowly down the corridor.

"Not tonight, little boy," Slytherin called over what Harry assumed to be his shoulder. "For now, I have more important things to do, and I am sure my heir will agree. Rest assured that we will come back to you, and that your death shall not be quick and merciful at all…"

The laughter turned cold and sadistic and reminded Harry uncomfortably of just whose ancestor this demon was. "We're going to have lots of fun together, before you die… even you will not outlast the union of two dark lords… watch your back, Harry Potter…"

There was one last burst of insane laughter, then there was silence. The force that had held Harry to the wall fell away abruptly and he tumbled to the floor in a shivering heap, cradling his cut arm close to his chest and feeling violated.

All around Harry, the torches on the walls flickered back to life. Harry stared at them uncomprehendingly. He had been so sure that Slytherin's weakness was light. He always attacked in the dark, torches died when he approached…. Harry stared into the bright, orange flames. What was it about these torches that Slytherin was afraid of, if it wasn't the light?

Harry racked his brain. The torches burned with fire. Fire… light… heat! Harry sat thunderstruck as he realised how close, yet how far he had been to discovering Slytherin's secret. It wasn't the light Slytherin was afraid of, it was the heat!

Harry could have hit himself for his stupidity. He had had a chance, tonight, to stop Slytherin in his tracks before he reconciled with his heir. Together, Voldemort and Slytherin would be nigh unbeatable, and he, Harry, had missed the last chance to keep the demon from joining with his heir… Harry's ball of light had only been slightly warm. Had he thrown a ball of controlled fire instead, Slytherin might have been stopped!

…_or the castle might have burned down_, Harry admitted to himself. He didn't have much control over the elements yet. With a heavy sigh, Harry dragged himself up from the floor and held his hand over the wound on his arm, concentrating briefly. The cut glowed for a moment, then it stopped bleeding and scabbed over. Harry grimaced at the lip-shaped bruises that could still be seen around it, but it could not be helped.

As the adrenaline in his veins diminished, Harry suddenly became aware of the chorus of panicked voices in his mind.

He ignored them and concentrated on Albus Dumbledore. 'Professor,' he thought, 'how much do the Order members know about the demon?'

A brief sensation of shocked worry filtered through the bond, followed by relief and what Harry took to be self-reproach.

'They have yet to be informed,' the headmaster sent back calmly. 'I take it that your delay was caused by another encounter with our resident demon? Are you hurt?'

'A little,' Harry thought, 'Not badly, I think. I'll be coming to your office in a few minutes. I'll explain more after the meeting's over.'

This was answered with silent assent. Harry picked up his backpack and slowly trudged back to the staircases. Hoping that he wouldn't be deposited in another abandoned part of the castle, Harry allowed the staircase to carry him to the floor below.

Even though he knew that Slytherin had left the castle for now, Harry felt a surge of relief when he finally came to a halt in front of the stone gargoyle guarding the staircase to Dumbledore's office. "Fizzing Whizbees," Harry said to the gargoyle and waited until it had jumped aside. He stepped onto the moving staircase behind it and waited patiently until he had reached the door at the top. For a mere second, Harry wondered if he was supposed to knock, then a cheerful voice called him into the office.

Harry stepped into the room and took his seat at the table quietly. He nodded to the Order members he didn't know and forced a smile for those he did.

Sirius was looking at him anxiously and Harry mouthed an 'I'm fine'. Sirius nodded, but his gaze told Harry clearly that he would have to explain himself after the meeting.

"The date for the election has been set," Dumbledore was saying. "It will take place on September 16th. There will be a possibility for the staff and those students who are of age to vote here at Hogwarts. For the remaining wizarding population, several election centres will be set up at strategic places all across the country, and portkeys will be provided for those who are unable to Apparate. There is also the new facility of owl vote, of course, for less traditional members of our society."

In the ensuing murmurs of the other Order members, Harry leaned closer to his godmother, who was sitting next to him. "What are Mr Weasley's chances in the elections?"

Minerva pursed her lips in a manner not unlike Aunt Petunia's. (Harry had to bite back a grin at that.) "The votes are equally divided at the moment," Minerva answered quietly. "The public's sympathy is leaning towards us, yet the old, pureblood families on Voldemort's side still hold a lot of leverage in the wizarding world."

Harry suddenly felt very cold. "Are you saying," he croaked anxiously, "that someone like Lucius Malfoy might win the elections?"

Minerva looked decidedly uncomfortable. "There really is no way to tell, Harry," she muttered, "and you are right. Lucius Malfoy is indeed participating in the elections."

"What?" gasped Harry. "But – but I thought he was in Azkaban?"

Minerva smiled grimly. "That's right. He _was_ in Azkaban. He bought his way out this afternoon and he's already made it very clear that he intends to run for office. It was all over the special evening edition the 'Prophet' released tonight."

Harry suddenly felt very weak and slumped in his chair. "They can't do that," he mumbled, "they can't! Lucius Malfoy… I mean, he's a known Deatheater!"

"Not anymore," Sirius muttered from Harry's other side. "The two aurors and the recorder who questioned Malfoy before his incarceration have mysteriously disappeared yesterday morning. Any files pertaining to the matter have also vanished without a trace. No less than five ministry officials and eleven Azkaban guards were found scattered all over Britain, wandering about without a clue of what happened to them during the past three days. As this is closely related to Malfoy's original imprisonment, it was kept under wraps as well, the families of the affected being told that there had been a top secret accident to do with the Department of Mysteries. Malfoy works quickly and efficiently, Harry. This evening, there was a small article in the prophet about Malfoy's political career – without the nasty bits, of course – , his statement about the elections and a huge donation he made to 'St Mary's Orphanage for Muggleborn Witches and Wizards'."

Harry gaped. "Malfoy made a donation to an orphanage for _muggleborns_? What's he playing at?"

"Why, he's gathering sympathy," Minerva said fatter-of-factly. "Sympathy from those who are still very sceptical of him. No doubt his political proclivities will '_change_' if he wins the elections."

They were interrupted by Dumbledore, who had decided that it was time for the meeting to continue, and Harry didn't have much time to dwell on what he had heard. "Before we conclude, there is one more issue that should be addressed. Good news, for once." Dumbledore smiled briefly.

"As most of you are aware, Mrs. Lupin, as the leader of the only exclusive lycanthrope school, has a lot of influence in all werewolf communities. She and Remus himself have been working tirelessly ever since Voldemort's resurrection to gain the lycanthropes' support for our side and to keep them away from Voldemort's influence."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, his eyes looking far away, though the smile never left his lips. "I am very happy to say that they have succeeded."

There were cheers and whistles, as well as a lot of claps on the back as the Order members relished in the first piece of good news they had heard in a while.

"Today, the three largest werewolf communities of Britain and Ireland have declared their official alliance to the light side," Dumbledore shouted over the noise. "The smaller communities and unbound families have followed suit. We have gained numerous powerful allies today, my friends, and Voldemort is one step closer to falling!"

The cheers that rose this time were so loud that the window panes shook in their delicate frames.

The meeting had ended a few minutes before, and finally the last members had Flooed out. The remaining professors and Harry adjoined to the small, comfortable sitting room beside the office. Out of habit, Harry sat down in the armchair in front of the fire, which had ignited itself as soon as they had entered the room.

Harry looked at the expectant faces one at a time, smiling inwardly at his godparents and professors. There were Sirius, Minerva, Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore. Harry's slight smile melted into a frown. "Where's Remus?"

Professor Snape sneered lightly and indicated the window. Harry turned his head, confused… and immediately spotted the large, pale full moon in the sky. "Oh," Harry uttered softly.

"They should be in the Shrieking Shack by now," Sirius added quietly.

There was a short silence as Harry's thoughts lingered on Remus and his daughter. He bit his lip anxiously and suddenly longed to join them, to make sure that they were all right and to tell them about Malfoy…

"Was there something you wished to tell us, Harry?" Minerva interrupted his thoughts. "Something to do with your temporary disappearance before the meeting, perhaps?" Harry winced at her mild glare.

"Er, yeah," he said quickly, "I mean, yes. That's, um, what I wanted to tell you about. After my birthday, with all the training, we kind of forgot something important. Um, about the demon."

Their reactions were gratifying to Harry's still stinging pride. Snape jerked his head around to face Harry quickly, Sirius jumped up reflexively (overturning his armchair in the process) and Minerva went deathly pale and sank back into the couch, her hand pressed over her heart. The only one who stayed silent was the forewarned Professor Dumbledore, who was watching the proceedings with a serene smile that somehow looked a little more strained than usual.

"Um, I'm fine," Harry managed to get out before the torrent of questions broke loose. Sirius was gripping his shoulder almost painfully, demanding to know if he was all right; Minerva was inquiring sharply as to what exactly had happened; and Snape was asking what stupidity had possessed him to wander the halls alone at night.

"Quiet!" Professor Dumbledore interrupted calmly, and the three others subsided. "Harry, would you tell us what happened, please?"

Harry nodded, relieved that Sirius had loosened the death grip on his shoulder and sat back down.

"Well, after I'd come back from Quidditch, Mr Skillridge left me in the entrance hall. It was so silent after he'd left, and I got a really weird feeling," Harry picked at his sleeve with his eyes cast down, "like I'd forgotten something dangerous."

"Go on," Professor Dumbledore prompted gently.

"I contacted you and you told me that there was a meeting and to come up to Professor Dumbledore's office. I was going to, but when I was almost there a staircase changed on me. It deposited me somewhere on the sixth floor, in a deserted corridor that leads nowhere."

The thread he had pulled out of the sleeve of the (thankfully old) school robes he had decided to wear that day for duelling practice was really very fascinating.

"I still had this weird feeling. Stronger than before. And then the torches flickered like mad and went out."

A second thread was beginning to come loose. Now, if he pulled it just _that_ way…

"I tried to cast 'Lumos', but my wand didn't work. It was so cold and dark. I tried to form a ball of light in my hand wandlessly like Professor Dumbledore showed me, and it worked. I could at least see a little."

The third thread Harry had pulled from his sleeve seemed to be too much for the old fabric, and a small run developed. Harry plucked another thread out and watched intently as it grew a little.

"He was totally invisible this time. I could only hear his disembodied voice. He seemed disconcerted by the light, so I made it grow and threw it at him. It didn't seem to disturb him at all, but it made him angry. He pinned me to the wall magically. I couldn't move at all. Then he told me that he had figured out how to leave the castle and I think he ran his hands all over me. It-" Harry shuddered. "It was disgusting. He told me that he had ascertained his plans would work and slashed my arm. Then he drank my blood."

Dumbledore ignored Harry's godparents' horrified gasps and leaned forward intently, his keen eyes set on Harry's right arm. "May I see?"

Harry rolled up his damaged sleeve and turned his arm so Dumbledore could see it. To his own astonishment, the vaguely lip-shaped bruises had turned completely black in colour and angry red lines ran from the clotted wound up Harry's arm and disappeared into his sleeve.

"Interesting," Dumbledore muttered and ran a careful finger over the half-healed cut. He pulled back as though he had been burned. "Dark poison. You will need to stop at the infirmary later, Harry, or Slytherin's little gift might kill you by tomorrow. Don't worry," he added, seeing the look on Harry's face, "it is a painless, slow-working poison and does no damage at all until it has reached your heart. We have hours till then. Continue, please, Harry."

"Right." Harry muttered and drew the sleeve back down gingerly. "Slytherin told me that by drinking my blood, he was renewing his old connection to his heir, who has a connection to me, and that he was now able to dwell not only at Hogwarts, where I am, but also at wherever Voldemort lives. He also told me that he had now established a real connection to me as well and that he and Voldemort were going to try to break into my mind together. He said even I couldn't withstand the combined power of two dark lords and that I should prepare for a long, painful death at their hands when the time comes. Then he released me and left."

There was a long silence. Harry watched awkwardly as Dumbledore and his godmother stared pensively out of the window, while Professor Snape seemed to be contemplating his hands and Sirius muttered angrily under his breath.

"I'm sorry!" Harry blurted out after a while.

Four uncomprehending gazes met his.

"I mean, I should have stopped him," Harry said guiltily. "I should have realised it wasn't the light that bothered Slytherin at all, it was the heat. He was afraid of the torches' heat, that's why they kept extingiushing themselves when he arrived. And now Slytherin has reunited with Voldemort. Together, they'll be unbeatable. I've failed you all… I'm sorry!"

"You, Mr Potter, have failed nobody," Professor Dumbledore said firmly. "In fact, I find myself impressed, yet again, by the proficiency you show in the face of danger. Considering the small amount of time I have had to train you in the art of wandless magic, what you did tonight is really quite astonishing. You have shown bravery, resourcefulness and cool logic in a situation that would have overtaxed most fully trained wizards."

Dumbledore paused shortly to allow these words to sink in properly.

"What happened tonight was most unfortunate, yes," he continued with quiet force. "It gireves me to see that our carelessness has caused you harm. We have all been remiss in our duty as your guardians. From now on, we will strive to protect you better, Harry."

Harry groaned. "Don't say that Sirius will start sleeping in my room again!" He ignored Sirius's mildly offended 'Hey!' and fixed pleading eyes on Dumbledore, who chuckled.

"I hardly think that will be necessary," the professor said soothingly. "However, I will insist that you do not wander the halls alone at any time of the day- or night." The headmaster glanced at him severely over the rim of his glasses, about as serious as Harry had ever seen him.

"Your rooms and the classrooms are still warded against the demon and will continue to be so. From now on, you will notify us mentally _before_ you enter the castle after Quidditch practice and _before_ you leave your rooms at any time. One of us will meet you and escort you through the corridors. Once the school year starts up again, I expect you to be in the presence of at least one of your friends at all times whenever you leave Gryffindor Tower or need to travel between classes. Is this clear?"

Harry stared moodily at his frayed sleeve. "Crystal," he muttered rebelliously.

"Ah, what was that, my dear boy?" Dumbledore smiled at him jovially, yet there was an uncommon steely glint in his eyes. "I'm afraid that I could not understand you."

Harry clenched his, jaw, raised his eyes to meet Professor Dumbledore's and forced his voice to remain steady. "I said, 'it's clear, Professor'."

"Splendid!" The old wizard sat back, the fierce light in his eyes gone so quickly Harry wondered for a moment if he had merely imagined it. "And now, a short visit with Poppy is in order, don't you agree, Harry? Minerva will be happy to accompany you."

Harry sighed and heaved himself to his feet. "Yeah, sure. Goodnight, Professors… Sirius."

The walk to the infirmary was silent, Madam Pomfrey reproachful ("I thought you had promised not to end up in the infirmary for a while, Potter?") and the cure quick and painless.

The rest of the night was spent running through the Forbidden Forest on soft paws with two werewolves and one big, shaggy black dog in his wake, paying their tribute to the silvery beauty of the luminescent full moon.

The next morning, Harry woke up with a terrible headache. He groaned to himself and groped his bedside table for his glasses, coming up empty-handed. Frowning moodily, Harry forced his eyes open despite the stinging sensation he was experiencing and tried to focus on the far wall. Surprisingly, it worked, after a few moments' time and a particularly nasty bout of pain behind his left eyebrow.

Where were…? Oh. He had apparently forgotten to remove his glasses after returning from the forest the night before, as they were right on his nose. Harry grumbled a little as he squinted towards his clock. Again, it took his eyes a while to adjust, and another stab of pain flared behind his forehead. What the hell was wrong with him?

Seeing as it was already eleven o'clock in the morning, Harry dragged himself out of bed, vowing silently to never accompany two werewolves on a nightly romp through the Forbidden Forest ever again- already knowing that he was going to break that vow in one month's time.

Harry sighed as he entered his bathroom and brushed his teeth quickly. The cold water on his face woke him up a little and made him feel better, though he was still having trouble focusing. Harry took off his glasses in confusion and inspected them carefully. Had they somehow come to harm in yesterday's escapade? Yet as closely as he looked, Harry could not even find one single scratch. His glasses were protected by magic, had unbreakable charms placed on them like all of his (new) clothes, and were thus in perfect condition.

Harry decided to let the matter rest for now and went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. The ceiling that day was grey and stormy, like the weather outside. Storm clouds chased each other across the misty sky and every once in a while, a raindrop hit with a slight 'splat'.

Sirius was already in the hall and waved him over with a huge smile. Harry took a seat between his godfather and the headmaster, greeting the former and nodding politely to the latter.

"Sleep well, Harry?" Sirius asked cheerfully. His exuberance grated on Harry's headache and he scowled into his porridge.

"Too little," he mumbled. When he tried to focus on the cinnamon, another flash of pain flew through Harry's head. He sighed and rubbed his temples in aggravation.

"Are you not feeling well, Harry?" the headmaster inquired softly.

Harry grimaced. "Yes. I mean, no. It's just my glasses. I fell asleep with them on and now they're a little… off."

Dumbledore put his fork down and pulled out his wand. "May I?"

Harry removed his glasses and handed them to the headmaster. He tapped the glasses with his wand and furrowed his brow thoughtfully. "There is no adjustment spell on these, Harry. When have you last been to see a muggle doctor?"

Harry felt surprised for a second. "A doctor? About my eyes? Never." Dumbledore, and Sirius on his other side, looked fairly shocked. "These are the glasses the Dursleys got me when the school doctor insisted. I was eight, I think."

Dumbledore peered at Harry shrewdly. "Do you have trouble focusing? A headache, perhaps?"

"Yes and yes," Harry admitted quietly.

"Ah," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "then your recent plight has nothing to do with your falling asleep before removing your glasses. Your eyes have changed, Harry, since you received these glasses seven years ago. My guess is that your magic has up to now worked to adjust any imbalances, and that it failed last night when you spent such a long time in your Animagus form. Your magic levels are rather low right now because of your power surge and training. With the added drain of the transformation, your magic decided that it was more needed elsewhere and you are finally feeling the effects of your glasses' obsolete prescription."

Harry blinked. "Oh." It kind of made sense. "And is there any way to, um, rectify their obsoleteness?"

"_Accommodo_." Dumbledore tapped his wand to Harry's glasses three times and handed them back to his student. "Here you go. They should adjust to your eyes now. Simply take them to Madam Pomfrey or myself if your eyes change further."

Harry slipped the glasses on and was happy to see the world spring into sharp focus. "Thank you," he breathed, looking down at his incredibly clear breakfast.

Dumbledore merely smiled.

The next few weeks rushed by at a fast pace. Harry got up in the mornings, took his glasses to the hospital wing for an adjustment ("Mr Potter, if it wasn't you, I would say that the way your eyes are changing is most unusual."), completed the last of his homework, allowed himself to be flayed in Duelling practice ("Chin up, Harry! I think you might have lasted a few seconds longer than last time, there! – What! A minute shorter…?") , attended his other lessons in which he was making slow progress, went to Quidditch practice, had a few tutoring sessions in Potions with Professor Snape ("Maybe you're not entirely hopeless after all, Potter, but you _are_ incredibly dense. Did I not clearly state that the lacewings had to be added _before_ stirring three times counter-clockwise, not afterwards?"), spent time with Rhianna and his godparents and Remus, visited the Founders' Garden on the rare occasions where he managed to escape from the castle alone and worked on his Animagus transformation until he could change as quickly and flawlessly as Sirius.

Slowly, but surely, Harry managed to get more and more of his new powers under control. It was a tedious process and just as hard on Harry as it was on his professors, who were often the recipients of Harry's infamous stress-relieving verbal and magical explosions, which they bore in good humour.

Rhianna was a calming influence at Harry's side. Quiet, cheerful and sensible, she always managed to soothe the waters after one of Harry's more frustrating lessons. It helped that her love for books equalled Hermione's and that her unconventional take on what Harry was learning sometimes gave him a better understanding of it.

Before the castle's occupants knew it, the holidays were almost over. The professors had cancelled Harry's lessons for the last week and were rushing through the castle, trying to finish lesson plans and other preparations on time. Remus, especially, was reeling, as he had a classroom and an office to arrange before the students' arrival.

Harry and Rhianna watched the haste in amusement and good spirits. They enjoyed their last few days of peace tremendously and got ready to move into Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers, as well as, in Harry's case, to go to Diagon Alley.

On August 28th, Sirius and Remus accompanied Harry to Diagon Alley where he met up with the Weasleys. It was Harry's first visit to the magical place since theird year, and despite the slightly strained atmosphere caused by the threat of Voldemort, he, Ron and Hermione spent several happy hours visiting Madam Malkin's, Flourish and Blott's, the Magical Menagerie, Quality Quidditch Supplies and Florean Fortescue's.

That evening, their stomachs full to bursting and weighed down by countless bags holding mostly Hermione's extracurricular 'light reading' but with happy smiles on their faces, the three of them returned to the Burrow with Ginny, Fred and George and the Weasley parents.

Harry spent the last few days of the summer holidays at the Burrow playing Quidditch, Exploding Snap, Wizarding Chess and Gobstones with the Weasleys. Hermione mostly sat by and watched their games with an amused and indulgent smile, her nose buried in one of her new books.

And so, on the evening of August 31st, Harry lay in his bed in Ron's room and stared at the ceiling, which glowed orange even in the moonlight. He smiled slightly as he thought about what the next day would bring. There would be the inevitable chaos, of course, before they left for King's Cross. At the station, Rhianna would be waiting to take the train with the other students, and Harry was very much looking forward to introducing her to the Weasleys and Hermione. Harry was sure that especially the latter would get on with Rhianna like a house on fire, seeing as they shared the same love for books and studying.

Harry smirked as he realized that he would have a hard time keeping those two from setting up camp in the library together, but he wasn't worried. After all, he had it on good authority that, if nothing else, he was resourceful.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope you enjoyed! _Please read and review_ and tell me what you think!

Until next time,

Felinity


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